Pink (And Black and Blue) Part 3 of Blood in the Viewfinder
by justdi
Summary: Co-habitate? In the middle of all this? Are you nuts? You idiot! Enjoy the rantings of Akihito, the manipulation of Asami and the dishonesty of everyone around them, including two employees who try to hide their feelings? And what does WHITE have to do with PINK?
1. Chapter 1

Title: Pink (and Black and Blue)  
Part 3/3 in the Blood in the Viewfinder Trilogy  
Part One Blood in the Viewfinder Here  
Part two Fallen (And I Can't Get Up) Here  
Author: Mistressdi  
Pairings: Asami/Akihito  
Genre: Humor, drama  
Rating: NC-17 most chapters are PG-13  
Spoilers: None  
AN: Think Greek

Pink (and Black and Blue)

Chapter I

The normally perfect (at least in his mind) Asami Ryuuichi, the businessman, the lover, the crime lord who ruled the Tokyo underworld like Anubis ran Egypt's mythological afterlife, cracked one sleep encrusted eye open and ran a finger through his messy hair and eyed the large figure standing at his bedside with a feeling of dread.

This was not a social call. Not at three in morning.

"The zombie apocalypse better be starting." He grumbled. "Because my finger itches. Actually, you might just be in the line of fire, Suoh."

"Sorry boss, sorry to wake you, but….." Suoh began. Asami sat up sharply when he saw the object glinting in Suoh's hand. A knife. No, not an ordinary knife, but a pearl handled tanto, held towards him with the hilt of it pointed at his chest. "Akihito left."

He felt a frown forming and his brows wrinkling, no….furrowing, that was the word. "And the tanto, are you surrendering a pinky to me?"

"Yes sir. I let him go." He shrugged and his normally pressed suit wrinkled. "Or rather, I wasn't given a choice."

"You….let him." He said, his mind still half in the dream world and half in the real, although the two seemed to be crossing right then, along with his eyes. He pushed the knife away. "I'm not in the mood to add your blood to the stains already on your clothes."

Suoh straightened (his legs not his clothes), sheathed the tanto, and it disappeared under his stained suit jacket. "I'm sorry boss. I could have stopped him, shot out the tires or something, but you said no guns and…."

"No guns, do I make myself clear? You want to set off one of his panic attacks? You won't like them." Asami turned on the light and grabbed his phone, not stopping between the motions, although he felt like his muscles weren't cooperating at all. The blue glow of his phone illuminated the shadows in the room and he read the screen quickly. There was one text from Akihito.

It was only two words, no monologue, no sweeping epic. It just read simply….._gone fishing._ He threw the phone to the side and suddenly wished for a smoke, some toothpicks, some Starbuck's and some target practice.

He didn't bother with a reply. Although he wanted to say:

_Get back here & deal w/ this and_

_UR not the only 1 in the world with problems and_

_Stop UR whining, & grow up already _

And just to add fuel to the fire already smoldering in Akihito's eyes he'd add, as an afterthought:

_When you get home, Kitten, your ass is mine, e_ven though the boy's ass was already his (along with other parts of his anatomy).

But he sent none of these thoughts in text form. He sent none at all. Let the boy simmer, like a dish of orange spicy curry on the stove, thinking he was mad, when in fact he wasn't. He wasn't at all. In fact, Asami understood.

_The fact of the matter was, he understood very well._

"The attacks, are they bad? As bad as…" He closed his mouth when Asami gave him a glare.

"I'm not in the mood for reminiscing about the old days." He said, suddenly tired, no he was already drowsy to begin with, so now he was even more tired. He needed Starbuck's. "So, I take from the dirty footprint on your pants that he kicked you and took off."

"He tied my shoelaces together." The large man shrugged again, which made him look like a bear shaking snow from his fur after rising from his hibernation too early. Right now, Asami felt like a grouchy bear himself, whatever bears felt like.

"Do tell."

Suoh took a deep cleansing breath and let it out with a whistle through his flaring nostrils. "I think my Achilles' heel is in my shins. He got my keys, stole my Jeep, let the air out of all the tires of the other vehicles, he was thorough." The man actually smiled and his eyes twinkled merrily. Well, sort of merrily, as merrily as a trained killer could.

"Don't be too impressed, he stole those moves from an episode of _The Mentalist."_ Asami said, and the corners of his mouth curled up, a feat in his sleepy state. "Monitor him. I'm going back to bed." He said and pulled the covers over his head. _Little punk._

"Sir?"

"He's fine, yes? He's with Kou?" He asked from under the covers. "Or his parents?"

"No Asami-sama. He's with neither. He's alone sir, at the top of Mount To at the shrine. He's, well, I didn't know he was a Buddhist." He shrugged again and wiped at a spot of dirt on his hand that wasn't budging, so he wiped harder.

"Have fun camping, Suoh. Take Akira with you, I'm sure he'd like to frolic with the birds and bees, maybe even roast some squirrel over the campfire. Yum yum." Asami said without humor as he pulled his pillow towards him like it was his missing lover.

Suoh didn't answer, but looked thoroughly shocked, his mouth slightly agape. Asami continued, mumbling mostly into his pillow. "Funny thing is he didn't have to go through all this drama, but I'm sure it was entertaining for you anyway. You're getting soft."

"I'm sorry sir?"

"Soft, you." He pointed a finger at his frowning bodyguard. "You're demoted. You're no longer the best bodyguard in the galaxy. You're now the best bodyguard in our solar system." He said grumpily still into his pillow, as if it had ears. "Don't fail me again."

"Yes sir. You….uh….y-you don't want me to encourage him to come home?" Suoh asked slowly, phrasing it in a way that made it clear _encourage _didn't mean the dictionary definition of the word.

"There is time for words and time for sleep. Let the boy sleep." He almost laughed, almost. No, actually that wasn't true. He felt something in his chest, and it probably wasn't the beginnings of laughter. He didn't know what it was, maybe it was heartburn. "Leave out a trail of breadcrumbs and he'll find his way home….eventually."

"Yes sir, have a good rest of the night." Suoh said, and Asami assumed he bowed, but he didn't see, because he was burying his head in Akihito's pillow, drinking in the lingering scent of his coconut shampoo. You would think Asami was upset, like he missed his wayward lover. But you would be wrong, because as everyone knew that would be silly, because Asami wasn't that type of man.

-P-B-B-

The day dawned early, because that's when dawn comes, early. Any earlier and it would still be nighttime, and Kirishima woke earlier than the dawn, in fact, if Kirishima didn't wake earlier than the dawn, the sun might not start its trip across the sky. Not that he was a god or anything, not that he had control of the solar system, but some days, like today, he felt like a god when those numbers added up just right, like they did last night. And when they added up, he practically drooled.

Asami was right, he was always right. He loved numbers like a lover.

So, as Kirishima headed to the mansion, filled with some kind of anxiety over Akihito's escape from the zoo, holding the Starbuck's cup carefully (iced venti caramel machiatto dry quad soy extra ice this time) with one hand and paperwork in the other, Kirishima hoped he'd find the boss in a good mood.

But one look at the calendar and he knew he would be wrong. And one look from his boss' golden eyes (who had eyes that color?) and he knew he was wrong. The boss wasn't in a good mood. He wasn't wrong about that.

He didn't like being wrong, he didn't like when the numbers failed to add up, he also didn't like Justin Beiber, but then again, who didn't? Oh yeah, millions of fangirls.

"Kirishima." Cranky boss said in some sort of greeting, trying to button his vest for the fifth time, and missing that second button every time. It made the normally perfect man look less than perfect, as if he was crooked, like the Leaning Tower of Pisa.

"Here let me." Kirishima said, his hand extended and was quickly, yet gently slapped away. Well, gently as the large man could. It actually stung a little.

"I'm good." He said, his voice so flat you'd think Asami was a robot in disguise. "Have the contractor assigned to Club Sion to repaint the entire interior. I want color. Make it bright, fuchsia or something."

Kirishima wanted to ask: "_again?" _But decided against arguing with the boss. That was a guaranteed one way ticket to a shallow grave, the bottom of Tokyo Bay, and other analogies involving death, dismemberment, and body disposal. You know, the fun stuff.

"You change your mind? I thought the black and white scheme contrasted with the décor well." Kirishima answered. He wanted to push his glasses up with his finger, but since his glasses now fit, he had nothing to do with that hand, so he just gripped his paperwork harder.

"I didn't _change_ my mind, I never made up my mind to begin with." He said, and finally finished buttoning that vest and quickly put on the coat, which was probably too warm for spring, and grabbed the Starbuck's sitting on the shiny table.

"Fuchsia. Is that even a color?" He asked, although he vaguely thought it was a color. Wasn't it pink or more like hot pink?

"It is if I say it is, Kirishima." He gave his Starbuck's drink a long suck, his cheeks sunken in like he was missing teeth, and drank until it was almost gone, slurping loudly at the end. The noise tickled Kirishima's funny bone (if he still had one), and he fought the urge to laugh. Fought it hard, with his fists.

"Umm….Akihito." He began, not really wanting to bring the subject up, but someone had to. And that someone always seemed to be him. "He's still up on the mountain, Suoh and Akira are guarding nearby. They were keeping themselves hidden, at least trying but Akihito….."

"He ditch them already?" Asami asked.

"No, actually, they are all camping together." He replied, and his finger went up to his glasses before falling back down to his side. Bad habits die hard.

"Oh? Why do I sense impending doom in that statement?" Asami asked. He slurped his drink again, finishing it and tossing it quickly in the trash, which was overflowing with used tissues, an empty bottle of lube, and two boxes of almond flavored Pocky. Akihito had moved in, taken over, and like a bad storm, left his life off course. "Let's go have some fun." Asami said suddenly.

"What kind of fun might that be?" He asked, confused, probably for the first time in his life. No, the second time, the first time was when Asami had asked the first time they met….

_So, what do you do for fun?_ He didn't know what to answer then, and he didn't know what would come out of Asami's mouth now. What he _did _know….

Fun for Asami = Akihito

Fun for him = numbers

Something wasn't adding up.

"Water Street Gang." Asami cracked his knuckles. "I'd like to call a meeting of their board."

_Oh._

_That kind of fun._

"Then lead on, fearless warrior." He said, dropping the paperwork on the table. He wasn't going to need it where they were going.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter II

It was 6 in the morning. Too late to finally go to bed, too early to rise and greet the dawn. So he did neither. Akihito stretched onto his mat, feeling the small rocks underneath his back, digging into the now fading bruises from when Asami took him in the bathroom and the spigot poked him in the back while he was being poked from the front. He didn't feel it then. No, then he was covered in a blanket of ecstasy and endorphins which blocked out pain. But it wasn't the time to be thinking Asami's hot body. Not that he was thinking of it. Okay, he was.

"I'm going to patrol." A voice said outside of his tent. It took him a minute to realize the voice belonged to Akira. The man hardly spoke to him, only managing a grunt or perhaps a facial movement that doubled as conversation. After those two Musketeers, Suoh and Akira hid themselves in the shadows (not realizing Akihito had his night-vision camera with him), he gave up listening to their tedious teeth chattering and offered to share his fire with them. It was comical, if he'd been in a laughing mood, to watch those two men sit on a tiny log, their butts frozen and trying to warm their pale hands with his meager fire.

Like most people with nothing much to say, they didn't talk and neither did he, preferring to stare at the embers and follow the sparks up until they disappeared into the heavens to join the bright stars above. Akira took fire duty and proceeded to turn the coals until Akihito seized the stick from him. The embers had been punished enough.

_He'd been punished enough._

"I'm going back to bed, then." He had answered and received a grunt in reply as the man shuffled off to "patrol", which probably meant stopping by the convenience store that stood like a guard at the entrance to Mount To. He'd be gone awhile. There was nothing worth eating there, nothing worth buying there, but was a great place to wander around and contemplate purchasing or not purchasing their miserable offerings and chat with the fat proprietor about the weather, which never changed. It was always foggy here, the mountain always shrouded in mist.

Taking his own advice, he closed his eyes, hoping Sensei's magic spell would work this time. It hadn't worked last night, after he went to bed only to wake at witching hour by the sound of his own screaming. Within seconds, he heard Asami's footsteps come toward the door and with a polite….

"….._I'm all right."_

He heard the heavy steps turn and retreat to Asami's room down the hall. Their room.

That little gesture was enough for his heart to thud out of his chest, through the scars he carried like a badge of honor. That little gesture was enough to gather his things and head for Mount To, his little thinking spot. He hadn't been here in years. It was _B.A. (_before Asami) when he last came here.

That other life, was it still waiting for him, on another timeline? Was it waiting for him to come to his senses? Was Akihito B.A. still waiting for him? And would he want that man back?

_That man, the man he could hardly remember._

P-B-B

_Never bring a knife to a gun fight._

The words of his father rang in Asami's ears, as if the man had never left his side, while he waited for Kirishima to open the door to the limo. Out he stepped, into the early morning fog which would soon dissipate and the sun would peek out, as if it was shy.

"How many." Asami grunted, his speech low and stealthy.

"Ten. Unarmed." Kirishima replied, "They're still sleeping, most likely still intoxicated."

"Let the sheep lie, I'm only interested in the wolf." He said as he checked the bullets in his gun for the fifth time, but who was counting? Oh, that would be Kirishima.

They entered the restaurant through an open skylight, avoiding the guards at the front and dropped down onto a counter, which smelled of freshly gutted fish. The cleaned butcher knives glowed in the flickering green fluorescent light and Asami made a mental note of them, not as a kitchen utensil, but as something more sinister.

"Let's take this party elsewhere, shall we?" Asami said, still whispering and cocking his head toward the cutlery, which could be deadly in the right hands and comical in the wrong ones. Either way, they spoke of death, as if shiny blades could talk.

Kirishima made a gesture of his own, pointing to the stairs and towards a brightly lit room. Their informant educated them on Okami's odd habits, all of which centered on that room, which he rarely left. He was that nervous, that cautious, or that frightened of the world outside those red leather doors.

"Don't draw." Asami said, and he didn't mean art. He paused a moment and instead of kicking the door in, which he would have done in another lifetime, he opened the door with a slight turn of his hand. In other words, he opened the door.

"Asami-sama." A high, pinched voice said. "I figured you'd come visit. The hour is early though."

"Okami-san, had your breakfast yet?" Asami replied as he stared at the man with the scar down his right cheek. The scar ran until it disappeared under his red shirt. "Because you and I need to chat, and I'd hate for the rumbling in your stomach to embarrass you."

"I've had a protein bar, a wheat grass shot with a vodka chaser." He gestured towards the chair across from him and waited until Asami sat. It was an odd chair, difficult to get comfortable in, difficult to rise quickly from, and it wobbled so you never could get your bearings. Maybe he wasn't as mad as he seemed. "Now, what is it we need to talk about?" Okami asked, taking a cigarette and offering one to Asami who nodded a polite _no._ "Huh, I heard you were a chain smoker." He shrugged and lit up his own thinly rolled cigarettes and inhaled deeply.

"The chain is broken." Asami said, but his own nostrils quivered at the smoke and he found himself inhaling. "I'll live longer if I refrain, at least, that was the doctor's prognosis."

"You'd live longer if you'd stay out of my business." Okami replied quickly, his voice clipped and full of malice. "So, your informant, he's a rough man, neh?"

"Rough as they come." Asami replied. "Former police officer. He seemed to like this side of the fence better."

"On this side of the fence, the grass won't grow." Okami blew the smoke out of his nostrils. "Sorry, we roughed him up a little bit. But he'll live….maybe."

Asami narrowed his eyes again, but the glare was lost on the man sitting across from him. "Stay out of the weapons trade. I've given you cock fighting, I've given you the drug trade in the Toshima-ku district. Guns, however, are not for little boys."

"And you've been generous, Asami-sama." Okami replied. The scar rippled with an attempted smile, but only half his face moved. "More than generous, however, the game has changed."

"What are you boys playing now? Mahjong with your mother?" Asami quipped.

"Ooohhh hoh..that made me laugh." He said, but his eyes weren't alive with merriment, they looked hard and cold. Despite his young age, the man was dead inside.

"Do I have to repeat myself?" Asami scolded. Okami's eyes widened, well, one eye did. "Or do I have to get ugly."

"I find ugliness pleasing. It makes me think I'm among my own kind." He said, and he gestured to the scar down his cheek.

"What happened to the other guy?" Asami asked.

"Wishing he'd never been born." He replied cryptically. He stubbed out his cigarette and studied Asami through his narrowed brown eyes. "I'm afraid the guns are a necessity."

"Not even the gods fight necessity. However, I'm not a god." Asami narrowed his eyes back. All this eye narrowing was going to give him wrinkles. "Find a new way of doing business. Your weapons spill among the people. You're careless. I don't want to hear about another child finding a grenade in his sandbox."

"Since when do you care about the children of men, Asami-sama." Okami replied, a challenging glint in his eye. "Or has your heart warmed to include those who crawl at your feet, like me."

"You don't crawl, you slither." He rose quickly, despite the unstable chair. "We are done.

"I don't think so." Usually those words always followed with some sort of violence, and of course he was right. Okami's gun was drawn, pointed at Asami's head. Funny, his weapon somehow found itself pointing at Okami's head, cocked, the safety off. However, he didn't really want to break in a new flunky if he killed this sad excuse for a man, so he hesitated in pulling the trigger.

"Are we," Asami stressed the _we_, making it come out hard and menacing, "In agreement." It obviously wasn't a question.

All of sudden, which was the understatement of the century, someone pushed the double doors in and proceeded to look around the room, which was odd, since they were standing right there, with guns pointing at each other. I mean, you would have to be blind not to miss this touching scene.

Oh. The boy was blind. Asami eye's flicked quickly to the white cane the boy flipping in his hand, around and around clockwise and then around and around the other way. Okami paled but didn't move, neither did Asami. Well, Asami didn't pale, he just didn't move.

"Nii-san, I can't find the eggs." The boy looked in their direction, the white cane ceased spinning. "Oh, you have company." Even from this distance, he could see the boy's nostrils flair. The boy, blind but obviously sharp, could smell them or rather, probably Kirishima, who still used way too much cologne. "And you're playing with guns again." The boy's hands went to his hips, and despite being blind, there was a fire behind his hazel eyes. "Did you offer your guests tea? No, of course not, you're so rude."

"We didn't require any, but thank you." Kirishima answered.

The boy smiled then, his whole face lighting up. "I don't know why you're cleaning your gun right now but you're being rude. Ugh….so rude Nii-san. Mom is watching, you know!" The boy yelled, but in an endearing way, like Akihito does when he's frustrated but still amused, like how you would yell at a dog chasing its tail which proceeded to knock over the potted plants.

The boy was either very naïve or very shrewd. He wasn't sure which. Nonetheless, nothing placated a violent situation like a child, especially this one, who looked like a young Akihito, down to his hazel eyes and slight build.

"The eggs are on the top shelf of the fridge, as always." Okami said, not looking in the boy's direction, his eyes still on Asami's narrowed ones.

"I looked there….well, I didn't look, but I felt around there." He said and chuckled at his own joke. "Oh well, guess no eggs, everyone will have to eat toast."

"I'll help you, as soon as I'm done here." Okami said. "Give me a minute, we're just ironing out some minor details."

The boy left, the double doors swinging behind him and Asami tensed. "Tell me why you need the money." Asami said. "Why do you want the weapons trade?"

"I just need it." Okami replied, his arm starting to shake, just slightly.

"For what?" Asami asked quickly.

"You know, little things around the house." Okami replied, and grinned which only appeared on the right side of his face.

"Ease the gun down, real slow like and we'll chat, for real this time." Asami said calmly.

"Why?" Okami asked, but started to drop his weapon. Asami heard him take a large deep breath, as did he.

"Humor me." Asami said, his gun disappeared under his coat and he pulled out a toothpick instead. "I'm in the mood for entertainment, perhaps a long-winded tale to start out the day." He paused a moment to flip the toothpick in his mouth. "It's about your brother isn't it?"

"You're one step ahead, as always." He shrugged and dropped the gun on the table beside him. "Surgery, he could have his vision back, maybe. But it costs a lot."

"Here's the part where you say that his blindness is your fault." He sucked on the toothpick, its pointy tip digging into his tongue.

"Yeah, of course it was my fault. I was driving the car that night. It was raining, and he was didn't have his seatbelt on and…."

"Yes, I see how that story ends." He interrupted, hoping he wouldn't have to watch the scarred man cry. He motioned to Kirishima who bent down and he whispered something in his ear.

"I'm in trouble, aren't I?" Okami said worriedly. "I was hoping you wouldn't notice."

"I notice everything. How much for the surgery?" Kirishima handed him his checkbook.

Okami's eyes widened. "It's experimental so there isn't a cost with the surgery, it's in Germany and we have to stay in Berlin for six months at least, so, I guess around 75 million yen. What are you doing?" He said, his voice quivering slightly as he watched Asami scribble out a check, his hand moving quickly.

"Don't get it my way again." He said warningly as he ripped the check off with a funny _zip _sound and handed it to Okami the Wolf. His hands shook when he took it, and stared at it for a moment.  
Asami rose quickly, grabbed the gun on the table and handed it to Kirishima, who handled it lovingly, before it disappeared under his jacket. "Leave big toys to the big boys."

"How can I thank you, Asami-sama?" Okami said, staring at the check, his finger poking at it, counting the zeros, his eyes wide and almost brimming with tears.

"You'll owe me a favor and someday I will collect." Asami said, flicking the toothpick in the ashtray, he added, "Go have some eggs."  
Okami rose and bowed, almost embarrassingly low. Asami liked it when people bowed like that, it was harder for them to shoot him in the back. Not that he would turn his back on the man, even if he just bought his loyalty, most likely for life.

"You've made a good ally." Kirishima said, pointing out the obvious, as they climbed into the limo.

"It's doubtful. But it's a case of _keeping your friends close and your enemies closer." _Asami said, "I'm sure your familiar with that quote."  
"Yes, I am." Kirishima said, "a favorite."  
Asami's eyes turned to Kirishima, who suddenly wished for his paperwork to hide his growing grin. "Yen speaks louder than bombs." Asami said.  
"I thought the pen was mightier." He replied.  
"Remind me to throw out that book of quotes later." He said without sarcasm. One of these days, he probably would make good on that threat.  
"I will, Asami-sama." Kirishima stared out the window, watching the sakura trees pass by. "I will."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter III (3)

To begin with, the man guarding the front of Club Sion had dog ears. Big Goon's ears flipped when he scooted to the right slightly, allowing Akihito entrance to the big ornate doors. The man scooted sideways, like a crab. He was the new hybrid. Crab-dog.

The door handle felt cold when Akihito gripped it, despite the sunny day, despite the glint of light from the twin suns reflecting on the gold metal. The metal felt like ice under his hand, melting away at his touch to reveal two heads made of stone. They looked up and smiled at him, their eyes dripping with water. "Hello, Zatoichi. Welcome back. Please deposit 10 yen to continue."

Akihito ignored the door's request. He had an account with Club Sion, and didn't need to pay. "I'm not the blind samurai you've heard so much about. I'm Akihito, always Akihito. Never anyone else."

The stone door handles smiled, their rock facing making a crunching noise. "Akihito is always Akihito, didn't you know?" They cackled.

Big Goon whined. "Akihito, you're to proceed forward…..and then solve a riddle while standing in the middle of the circle." Big Goon said, his tail coming out and wagging back and forth. "The middle, not the side."

"Paper." Akihito replied, although he wondered why he said it. "I know the answer already it's paper."

"Then why ask the question when you already know the answer?" Big Goon shrugged and fluff fell off and blew away in the wind. "They are waiting for you, then." Big Goon said, his tongue coming out to lick the tip of his little black nose. "I'd like a treat, if you will."

Akihito handed him a bone from his pocket. "Stay." He said, and Big Goon, with fur the color of lightening, shiny and white, took the bone with a nod of his head. Akihito scratched his ears. Big Goon's ears, not his.

The red doors opened to him, silent, light, as if they had no mass. The clipping of his prosthetic echoed off the mossy walls, dripping with moisture and scarred with bullet holes. But he ignored it. He'd seen it before.

"We've been expecting you." A voice said from the thin air, making it slightly thicker. "You answered the riddle, so we are here to guide you."

"I don't need guiding, Asami, I'm not lost." He replied, coming into the office which looked like any other office, except the floors were glass and the roof made of metal. You could see dirt underneath the glass and the twin sun's rays were blocked by the thick tarnished metal, making it look red in the light of Asami's lamp. "I'm here to get what you took from me."

Asami sat in a large, ornate, pretentious chair made up of the white bleached bones of whales and other sea life which reclined behind his equally large, ornate, pretentious desk, made entirely out of gold. At least Akihito assumed it was gold.

"You can't get it back. I ate it. Long ago."

"Then, what are you eating now?" Akihito asked, taking the chair reserved only for him. It was a smaller chair, almost made for a child, but just as ornate, made up of brightly dyed orange feathers. It glowed despite the darkness in the room. He liked things that glowed.

"A peanut butter and jelly sandwich." He said, cutting the sandwich with his knife and fork and placing a small perfect square into his mouth. "Made especially by my American friend, he knows his jelly." He wiped his mouth with a red handkerchief and pushed back from the desk and stood, rolling a pair of eyes around in his hand like medicine balls.

"I'm dreaming, Asami." He stated, pointing to the eyes. "Are those from someone you know?"

He looked down at the eyes which dripped with goo. "Oh these? Token offerings from the grateful. I enjoy seeing the world through their eyes." He stated and the corners of his mouth curved into a snarl. "Took you long enough to realize your status in my world."

Asami moved slightly, revealing that was pant-less, and stood next to Akihito's chair. Akihito had to crane his neck to see Asami's face.

Asami dropped the eyes and they rolled around on the floor until they rested, their irises staring at Akihito. The eyes blinked and rolled away, leaving a wake of wetness, slick, like a snail's trail.

"Usually the dreamer is the one with no pants on. Are you late for a test as well?" Akihito asked, pointing at Asami's underwear.

Asami launched into a fit of hysterical laughter, which only lasted thirty seconds. Akihito knew how long it lasted, because the clock on the wall said _its been thirty seconds. Are you ready for the ka-boom? _And yes, the clock talked, and peeked at Akihito with its funny number shaped eyes.

The laughter came and went. "This is the new style. I'm sure you'll catch on once the fog clears." Asami replied.

"So where's my stuff? Is it in here?" Akihito stated, running his fingers along the hemline of Asami's gray boxers. Asami giggled like a girl and grabbed his fingers. Slowly, he moved Akihito's hand until it stretched to the limit, reaching Asami's lips. A purple veined forked tongue came out and licked each fingertip, coating it with slick, thick saliva.

Akihito pounced, his prosthetic assisting him, pushing Asami backward and onto the desk. With precision, he had Asami's boxers off and dangling around his ankles. "It's in here, then." He said, and plunged a finger into Asami's pink hole.

Asami just chuckled. "Harder, softer, no there. Ugh ugh ugh." Asami said without passion. "Okay, I'm done, convincing, aren't I?"

"Faker." Akihito said. He pulled back and reached a hand out to pull Asami up, but Asami didn't move, just looked at the hand like it was a knife and would cut him if he budged.

"Finish what you started." Asami challenged.

"I see you've commenced without me." A voice Akihito half-remembered, half-didn't called from the ceiling. The man owning said voice rappelled down the side of the walls on green wires, which looked alive. Akihito got a close up the sole of his boot.

"I was in the Marines." He said, as if they asked or cared what his previous occupation was. "But that was before love died."

"Keir." Akihito said. "Where have you been, I waited by the river but you never showed."

"I've been tacking up posters. I lost my cat."

"Have you checked the lost and found?" Asami asked, his boxers still around his ankles. He made no move to pick them up. Little soot sprites came out from under the desk and made a mad dash for the boxers before Akihito saw them and stomped his feet, leaving dead black ash in his wake. He felt like Godzilla.

"Roar." Akihito said, "Eat foot death." He stomped again.

"I searched the world over and I found this." He said, and handed Akihito a small camera, covered in dust. "Thought you might want it."

Akihito felt his eyes water. He reached up to rub the tears away but only managed to hit himself in the head. Not once, but three times. "I'd like it back." He said, and reached for it, only to have his hand grasped by Asami.

"That belongs to a dead man, you don't want it now."

Akihito hit his head again, three times.

"Three times the charm." Keir said. "You've got a race to run."

"I can't race like this." Akihito said, and pointed out that he was suddenly wearing a tiny red leather boxer shorts. "No matter what you say."

"The fog lifts, with style." Asami said in a sing-song voice. He emphasized his words by flaying his hands around and spinning in a circle. "I like style." He paused a moment before adding. "Style!"

"But we've printed up flyers, you have to race." Keir whined. "Ah me oh my….you don't want to have to explain this to the keeper of the books. Anything but that."

"That would be me and no one else, but me." Kirishima rose from the couch. Akihito didn't even notice he was there, he'd blended in so well with the furniture. There was a reason, he was transparent. "Let me be frank. The race is already won, you just have to accept the prize….Aki-chan, Aki-chan, Aki-chan."

"What if I don't want it, Frank?" Akihito asked.

"Then no one gets it, because it won't be offered to anyone else. You're the winner….winner….winner….WINNER….dingdingdingdingdingding." Kirishima said. "And my name is Charlie."

"Back in your box, Charlie. No one wants you." Asami stated and started to push Kirishima into a large wooden oblong black box. It looked like a coffin. No, it was a coffin.

"Wah…wah…." Kirishima/Frank/Charlie started crying. "Nobody wants a Charlie in the box, I'm just a misfit toy."

"I regret letting you watch that show. You've been playing with clay too much." Keir said unhooking the tangle of tentacles currently holding him to the ceiling. He fell with a thud and landed silently on his perfect black covered feet. "Quit molding people."

"But I'm god! I'm allowed to mold people. It's my job!" Kirishima/Frank/Charlie argued from in the box. He thudded against the top three times before he fell silent.  
"I've boxed you, god. Let's see you punch your way out of this!" Asami yelled, using his fists to slam the lid closed. Then, for good measure, he used his head.

"Now that he's gone, we can fornicate in public." Akihito said, not really knowing why he said it, but he did.

No, it wasn't him, it was Asami using his voice. Which was sort of comical, so how come he wasn't laughing? Oh that's right, Asami hijacked his voice.

"Don't commandeer my voice. I might not get it back." Akihito chastised, but it came out of Asami's mouth. "Oh yeah, that reminds me, I've forgotten something. You're a bastard."

"That was the last semblance of disorder in the realm of the twin suns, now all we have is cat food." Keir said and he winked, which looked like he was having a seizure.

"I for one, am glad he's gone. We can buy balls and charge it to the R&D department." Asami said, still in Akihito's voice.

"I'm laying right here! I can still hear you!" Kirishima yelled from in the box and knocked again. This time he knocked twelve times. "And R&D has been mothballed!"

"Sit on his box and wiggle, Akihito. Your butt is good at that." Keir said.

"I don't wiggle my butt." Akihito retorted. It was his voice, coming from his mouth. He felt rather good about that. "I stole my voice back from you."

Keir laughed. "Give me your butt, I haven't had anything to eat. Asami, on the other hand, scarfed down a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, three pickles, a quarter pounder with cheese, and twenty-three orders of penis, with cream on top. And that was in the last five minutes."

"That's just nasty."

The clock said: "Here we go again!"

"They were all bad." Asami said, starting that hysterical laughter again which rumbled low and then hit a squeal like a pig and a siren at the same time. He stopped laughing abruptly and stroked his chin. "Not Kosher."

A girl came into the room. Akihito blinked a bunch of times and shouted: "Motomi-chan, check out Asami's junk. Does your big fiance have junk like this?" He pointed to Asami's cock, which was soft, so not at big as it usually is, but still big.

She cocked her head. "Yes, I cocked my head." She said. "And yes, that's a play on words and it has nothing to do with chickens." She peered at Asami's penis and raised her eyebrows, to the point where they disappeared into her dyed green hairline. On closer inspection, everyone had odd colored hair, even Asami, his hair had a blue sheen. What did his hair look like? He tried to pull at it, but couldn't. He didn't have any hair. His head was shaved.

"He's big, but it only belongs to the owner. I wouldn't want to pay the rent on that space." Motomi said, and suddenly as she came, she was gone, pushing her way through a tiny hole in the wall, which closed up after she left.

"That was pointless." Asami said.

"So is everything that comes out of your mouth." Akihito remarked.

"Your head is still shaved from the surgery. But you will recover." A man's voice said somewhere overhead, as if it was piped in.

"That was months ago. It grew back." Akihito argued with the ceiling. "I'm fine now."

"Fine and dandy like sour candy." Keir said and threw candy at Akihito. "You like candy, right? Sour, sweet, bitter, you will take it all. That's the stuff."

"I only want the sweet."

Asami pulled up his boxers and ran a finger across the top of his bald head. He caressed the stitches like it was favorite thing on his body. "Then add sugar to the sour, and relish in your creation."

Akihito blinked back some fresh tears, he didn't like stale ones. "What job do you do now, Keir?" Akihito asked, not taking his eyes of Asami's deep liquid pools. His eyes, not his pools. Asami's eyes bored deep, unblinking.

Keir looked from boy to man and back to boy. "I wander from frame to frame. Sometimes you will catch me picking up trash at the train station." He remarked, while he shot a grappling hook into the ceiling and stepped onto a flat wooden platform. "Look, I'm Batman!" Keir smiled. "Say goodbye Akihito, I'd have a witty remark, but I'm fresh out. I leave the wit to you and your boyfriend."

"Goodbye Akihito." Akihito said pulling Asami closer to him, Asami's suit covered chest brushing Akihito's bare one. "Be ok, you'll do that for me?"

"I'll always be ok." He glanced at Asami, who didn't look at Keir. "Cough, cough. Thanks for the loner." He said, and threw Asami a golden colored apple. "I'd pass the torch, but it seems I was never given it to begin with."

He disappeared, somehow, into a hole in the ceiling, which was quickly covered up by two lions who flipped their tails and covered the hole with their fur.

"I'm dreaming." Akihito said. "My sky feels cloudless."

"MMnhhh….come home, I need you." Asami pushed him towards the coffin and leaned him over it and yanked his red leather boxers down in one move.

"We can't make love over Kirishima."

"Kirishima, we will make love above you, that's all right, isn't it? Of course it is. Why wouldn't it be?" Asami kissed him, the forked tongue coming out to lick the tip of his nose, before he dropped the tongue into Akihito's mouth. "Akihito." He whispered, his pelvis rubbing hard, trapping Akihito against the coffin.

Akihito eyes closed tightly, the man smelled of peanut butter and jelly, felt warm and wet at the same time, like the rain in the forest in Brazil. The warmth enveloped him, Asami's hands snaking to pin his arms against the lid of the black coffin.

Asami pulled at his tie and it fell in slow motion, landing on the coffin and dropping onto the floor. The soot spites came and dragged it away and that was the last he saw of it.

"Touch me." Akihito said. "I can't feel you."

"When I touch, where I touch, is mine. Do not doubt that again." Asami warned, his gold eyes scorched to black and then resumed their more natural color. His cock strained, looking bigger than humanly possible as he plunged dry, no lube, no preparation.

"Ahhh….Asami, it hurts."

"Life does sometimes."

"Quit….quit with the idioms." He moaned and pushed against Asami while Asami stayed still, letting Akihito engulf him.

"Oh quit talking and just fuck him already! I'm running out of baseball analogies!" The man in the box said.

Asami started a gentle pace of advancing, retreating, his cock swelling, pulsing. He thrusted harder, the coffin rocking with their gyrations, pounding like a hammer into Akihito's pretty pink hole. "Open for me. Accept it."

The clock on the wall said: "Time is almost up."

Akihito moaned. "It feels…oh damn." He rocked his hips, thrusted to meet Asami half-way down. His lips were already chapped and dry from his panting. He licked them, but couldn't feel anything. "More, more….I want it all."

"Akihito." Asami grunted, sounding so beautiful, Akihito thought he would die. "Akihito, you have to wake up."

"No, I want to stay here….please…feels so good….please.…..make me cum."

"Then cum." He ordered, and it didn't take Akihito but an instant after the order was given, but his seed shot into the air and coated everything white. His eyesight, the black coffin, the glass floor. They were almost drowning in it. He arched, his back fitting over the coffin's lid, his leg slipping on the slick lacquered surface. He curved his hips up, allowing Asami to thrust deeper. Asami pushed so hard, he felt his chest burst with the force.

"Feel." Was all Asami said, as he came hard into Akihito's hole. He continued thrusting, stopping only when Akihito's boneless body could no longer hold onto the coffin. Asami kissed him.

"Come home." He said, and fixed his clothes and disappeared into a door Akihito didn't realize was there.

"Wait, how do I get home?" Akihito asked, pulling up his shorts, which were now green and coated with dirt.

"What?" Suoh asked.

Akihito blinked. He was in his tent. He was awake and coated with his sticky mess. "Oh, nothing, I was…..nothing."

"I made a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. That was all they had." Suoh stated from outside the tent. "Come eat, you've been asleep all day, you've been dead to the world."

He yawned and took the sandwich. "Time to rejoin the living." He said stretching and wandered off to the shrine, taking bites of the dry offering and chewing slowly.

_It was time to go home._


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter IV

To begin with, Asami didn't really mean fuchsia literally but obviously Kirishima being Kirishima he interpreted it that way. Taking a long deep suck on his Starbuck's Venti Matcha no whip Frappuccino (just to drink something that glowed and live to tell the tale, not that anyone would listen), the paint colors blurred together until they made a rainbow in front of his eyes.

Fat Contactor didn't walk, he strutted, which looked rather comical in his ill-fitting white polyester leisure suit and bell bottom pants. Asami wondered if the man just stepped out of a circa 1970's American movie. He looked around for a time machine, the Delorian or the Tardis, but finding neither, he just assumed the fat hairy chested man never got the memo that the 70s were over.

"You see from these paint swatches that…." Fat Contractor began, wiped his sweaty brow with his sweaty handkerchief, and continued "that the choices are limited in that color scheme but if you add a brown undertone, you get a nice rich mauve." He pointed to a color that looked like a pink brown. Like Pepto-Bismol, only more dismal.

The word _mauve_ made the bile rise in his throat. That was the ugliest word, for the ugliest color. It was the color of the apron his mother wore. Why she wore it when she never cooked nor cleaned was always a mystery. So the frilly burgundy apron had faded until it was a dull pink, but she still wore it as if she was a kitchen goddess, or a kitchen witch. That was closer to the truth.

_Dull._

There was a reason the historians called this era the Common Era. Because it was common, people living their common, everyday lives, gray in their existence, their televisions flicking on and off until their eyes blurred and they went to bed, only to start the day again in their common everyday way.

He'd had this conversation with himself before. He'd had this conversation many times.

_Being average wasn't for him._

_Being common wasn't for him._

_Being dull wasn't for him._

But here he was, discussing paint colors with Fat Contractor, contemplating putting a stop-payment on the 75 million yen check he'd just written to buy Okami's loyalty, just to shake things up. Still, scarred flunky was probably staring at it, still counting the zeros with his index finger (because there were a lot of them) his butt making a groove in his Ikea red leather chair and eating his egg sandwich that his blind brother somehow cooked for him, the yellow egg yolk dripping down his scarred face.

"If you say mauve again, I will fire you." Asami said without humor, and sucked on his drink again, enjoying the wide eyed look from Fat Contractor.

The prissy young lady standing next to Fat Contractor tapped her feet in annoyance, although her face was bright and smiling. She was easy to read, like a children's book. "Asami-sama," She began, the _sama_ coming out with a tinge of disrespect, "The change in paint colors will delay the opening of the club another month at least. I would suggest painting the entire club a neutral color and then using colorful accents that can be changed out." _To fit your mood, your royal moodiness. _She didn't say it, but with her annoyed body language, she didn't have to.

_Being neutral wasn't for him, either._

"I'm paying you to be a decorator, not oversee operations of _my_ club." He said, his eyes narrowing, just because he felt like it. She looked like she was going to pee her pants. He let her stew a moment or two, watching as she shuffled her feet in those pointed witchy shoes of hers. "Fine. I'll leave it to you." He said finally, flipping a toothpick in his mouth. "But no wicker. I hate wicker. I even hate the word wicker."

"Thank you, Asami-sama." She was probably thanking him for not firing her skinny shaped ass. As he walked away, he was delighted to hear a rush of escaped breath from her tight lipped mouth, as if she'd been holding it while they talked.

"Come Kirishima." Asami said, like Kirishima was his dog, actually he kind of was. When the man hadn't moved, Asami stopped himself and turned.

Uncharacteristically, Kirishima was pointing rudely to the front double doors of the club. Asami followed the slightly quivering finger and caught the eyes of….

_His mother._

If he had a soundtrack following him around you would hear the screechy violins right about now, indicating something terrible was going to happen to the sacrificial virgin in the scene. Since he was no virgin, he relaxed, but only slightly. It was Kirishima he was worried about. He still wasn't sure of his sexual status. He was going to get that guy laid or die trying.

"Welcome, mother. How are you feeling?" He said. They should bottle his honeyed words, he'd make a killing, but then bees would be out of a job. Asami kind of liked bees, the thought of stinging someone was particularly sweet.

"I'm not ill, but thank you for your….kind….inquiry." She said, the rustling of her kimono barely evident as she stepped onto the plastic covered floor of the club. "I see you still can't make decisions." She said, indicating the bright pink swatches on the walls.

"We are in the midst of a complete remodel." He said quickly, stating the obvious. It was obvious because the entire club was covered in clear plastic sheeting. It looked like an unopened toy that you would never take out of the box and play with but just stare at hoping it would increase in value, the Club Sion Playset (action figures not included). "So, what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?"

"I was in the neighborhood." She held out a file, which he didn't take. "It looks like you still can't make up your mind….on other things." She lowered the file with a frown, actually it was hard to tell if she was frowning, maybe her frown was permanent, like Asami's smirk. "There are dozens of omiai partners contained in that file. Perhaps that will help you come to a decision."

There was no smirking today.

"I've made up my mind already." He said flatly, his eyes lowering to the file and then back up to stare into his mother's liquid black eyes, so like ink. "Let's talk in private." He said, when he noticed the contactor and decorator leaning towards them as to hear a little bit of juicy Asami family gossip. He hated gossip.

There were a lot of things he hated today.

In silence, because he had nothing to say, he entered his office and ushered her to a seat. "A disturbing rumor has reached my household. You've taken in a lodger." She said, as soon as she was seated but he wasn't. He did take his seat before answering. Her little ways of catching him off-guard didn't work on him.

"He's not a lodger."

"Yes. A lodger would pay rent. However, this boy, this Takaba Akihito, doesn't pay rent, doesn't pay anything." She said. Her pale hands rested, one of the other in her lap, as if she was nursing a sore belly.

"I don't require him to, if he wants to, that is up to him." He said coldly. You could say Asami was the type of man to hate his mother. And you would be right, for once.

"Then the rumors are true. You've taken in a lover." The pale hands switched places, right over left. "I thought you learned your lesson the first time."

"What lesson are you referring to, Mother?" He knew what she was talking about, but he refused to take that guilt trip. He still was unpacking from that one.

"It's been a long time, perhaps you require further study."

He rose from his chair and averted his gaze. Suddenly the Tokyo skyline was so interesting, even in the daytime. "I was a young man then. You no longer have control over my personal life."

"You weren't a man, you were a boy, as is the little Nobody you've taken in. Perhaps Nobody will take my money and run, just like Kobayashi did."

Asami pushed his tongue into the roof of his mouth to keep himself from screaming at the insane woman across from him. "It's difficult to run when you have a noose around your neck."

Silently, with precision, as if she were holding a fragile antiquity, she placed the file on Asami's desk, at least, Asami assumed it was the file. He turned around, surprised to see several pieces of official legal looking paper on his desk on the middle of his cowhide blotter, halfway between, in neutral territory.

"I've prepared the paperwork. I will give this Nobody the same deal as Kobayashi."

"Your deal killed him."

"I seek no forgiveness, as I am blameless on that matter. His mental status was unstable to begin with, it runs in his family. This Nobody, it seems, also shares some infirmity of his own, mental and physical. Perhaps his runs in the family too?"

"Your words turned Kobayashi to stone." He said thickly. He could feel the anger rising, the bile rising, the volcano starting to bubble, just by the very smell of his mother's sickly sweet perfume in his office.

"Hold up that mirror towards yourself, Asami. You will find you're the one encased in plaster." She retorted quickly, the tone of her voice rising slightly, but still very lyrical, still beautiful to listen to. Beautiful and deadly.

"I'm not so colorless as that." He responded pulling out a long thick cigar out of his humidor, the humidor that Kobayashi had given him on White Day, the day he died. Funny, many White Days had come and gone since then, and he always found himself alone on that day, despite the people around him, despite the party Sion Corp. threw every year. This year he had hoped would be different.

_"__I love you, Kobayashi-san." He had said, with so much sincerity, it hurt._

_Kobayashi had touched his cheek. "With all my faults? With all my problems…you still love me, don't you?"_

_"__We can get through this together. I can hold you when you're afraid."_

_"__No, we can't, you can't." He had replied, leaving the humidor at his feet. He had run then, the tears trailing behind him. _

He had said those three words to Kobayashi on White Day, said them to someone for the first time…

_…__.and the last._

_Kobayashi took his confession with him. His words were burned with him, the gray ash floating like falling leaves. His mother had hugged him that day, in some kind of fucked attempt at consoling him. He felt his heart give birth to hate that day._

"Trip down memory lane?" His mother said, snapping him out of his thoughts like a whip hitting a horse's flanks. "You look far away."

"I wish I was farther." He replied. "Takaba won't be swayed by money, so you can take your deal and go." He threw the papers at her and they fluttered to the floor, yet she made no move to pick them up. ""Don't open this Pandora's box, mother. You won't like what you find inside."

She made a clucking noise with her tongue against the front of her teeth. "I already don't like it. I will never like it, and there is nothing you can say to make me like it."

"Did I ever ask for your approval?" He asked quickly, before she could say anything else.

Her eyes narrowed and she muttered something under her breath, what, Asami wasn't sure of, but it probably wasn't _I love you son, you can live your life anyway you want and I will welcome your lover with open arms._

He lit the cigar he forgot he'd been rolling around in his fingers and puffed on it, his tongue seeking the bitter taste of tobacco to cover the bitter taste of his mother's poisoned tongue.

She brushed imaginary dirt from the front of her black kimono. Twenty-five years since his father's death, and the woman still wore the clothes of a widow. "There are other ways to get my point across. In the meantime, I'll leave this file with you." She placed the omiai file on his desk, previously occupied by the paperwork, rose, and with no farewell or goodbye of any kind, left Asami, the omiai file, and the ghost of Kobayashi.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter V (5)  
Suoh had half-expected and half-not expected (with his other half occupied with watching out for bad guys, which didn't add up, but let's leave the math to Kirishima), the building on steroids AKA the mansion to be glowing, the light pouring out of the windows like a beacon in the night.

But no, the building was silent and dark, a chilling monster in a horror movie, despite its pretty pink flowers, its welcoming sakura trees and the ornate green gate with the funny Xs all over it.

But one look at the date, and he realized his error. It was White Day.

Somehow, the theme song that should follow him around (the theme from Mission: Impossible) would suddenly crescendo with a bum-bum-BUM once he realized what today was. The gang of four (Akira, Suoh, Kirishima and Asami) were the only people that knew why it was Asami's bad day.

The perfect man was allowed one.

The rest of the men had dubbed it….._Black Day_. It was circled on the calendar in red ink and although Asami threw a party every year on White Day, it always ended the same way, with someone fired for _insolence _(which could be anything from a crooked tie to an off-color comment). In year's past, it would end with someone dead.

He had hoped this year would be different.

"He's not home." The boy said from the driver's seat, since he was for some reason the one driving. Actually, he let Akihito drive for a lot of reasons, mostly to do with how one drives with a prosthetic foot. Simple answer, he uses his left foot. Suoh pinched his nose, which he rarely did, except around the boy and when the boss was annoyed and maybe around _THAT WOMAN. _So maybe he did it more than he realized.

"No, there is an event at Club Olympus tonight." He replied, as if that was some kind of answer, which it was the only one he was going to give. "I forgot to tell you." No he didn't forget to tell him, he just forgot to remember.

There was a silent _O _from the boy's mouth, and he looked crestfallen, like someone let the air of his tires, like all the cars that were sitting in the garage.

"You're invited, you know. It's for White Day." He explained further.

"White Day." There was that silent realization in Akihito's eyes that he had forgotten about White Day. "I don't want to be around a lot of people right now."

There was an unspoken fear, yet brilliant wisdom in that wavering voice Suoh had never heard before. It hurt to hear it. The kid was better, but far from all right.

"It's fine." Suoh said, and exited the car quickly. He had expected the boy to jump out of the car and go inside, but he just sat there, his two hands gripping the wheel, white knuckled, deep in thought, either that or he was checking the oil pressure light.

He opened the door for Akihito, as he would for Asami-sama, and Akihito slid out, one leg at a time. "Umm…." Akihito began and shrugged when Suoh held a hand out to him. "It's not fitting right."

At first Suoh didn't understand what Akihito meant but Akihito pointed at the prosthetic and shrugged again. He hadn't had to deal with the _leg situation_ much (as Asami's men called it) but they'd been briefed (briefly briefed) by Akihito's own doctor on how best to handle it.

_Handle the kid with kid gloves._ Of course, that little quote was courtesy of Kirishima, who loved words, sayings and those idiotic idioms almost as much as much as he loved numbers. Too bad he didn't love people the same way.

"I see. Do you require assistance?" He asked as if Akihito were an old woman and needed help crossing the street. He should get a patch for this, or some kind of medal, not that he deserved one.

"Yes, please." He said, and Suoh helped him up and with one arm around Akihito's waist, they walked up slight incline. Suoh had only touched the boy a handful of times, usually when he'd fallen asleep in the wrong spot. He didn't want to think about that first time, when he'd drugged the boy and thrown him into the limo. He didn't want to, but he did anyway. He felt an apology coming from his lips, like he could take it back. He was just following orders, and even he realized that didn't make it all right. Because it wasn't.

He let the apology die on his lips and buried that little momentary lapse of his sanity, to never see the light of day again, like a loose-lipped stoolie.

"Thanks." Akihito said as Suoh assisted him to the leather couch and looked away while Akihito started to pull at the various belts and ties keeping the leg tightly formed against what remained of Akihito's knee. "I need help." He asked. "Please."

Again, Suoh wasn't sure what he meant, but the boy pointed to the bolts near what served as Akihito's ankle. "How can I help you, Takaba-kun?" He asked, coming over to stand next to the boy, who craned his neck to meet his eyes.

"The bolts are too tight." Akihito handed him a funny looking screwdriver that was kept in a compartment in the prosthetic itself. Akihito also kept mints in there which was kind of funny. If Suoh had a prosthetic he'd keep a weapon in his little compartment. But that was just him.

Suoh made short work of loosening the bolts and Akihito tested the gear and nodded. The screwdriver disappeared and Suoh planned to disappear soon and go guard outside. In other words, he'd stand around awhile and then check under the house for spooks, ghouls and zombies and then return to stand around awhile, and repeat.

"How long have you been with him, Suoh?" Akihito suddenly asked, although he was avoiding Suoh's gaze. Normally the boy always caught your eye when he spoke, except when he was uncomfortable, which was usually all the time.

"Cram school, second year." He replied.

"What was he like then?" Akihito asked.

Suoh wasn't sure how to answer. He wasn't sure how much he was allowed to say, so he decided the truth was better than a lie, so he only said, "Focused, dedicated and troubled, sometimes."

Akihito finally caught his eye. "Trouble, like I was or troubled….like…." He shrugged again.

"He had troubles, like everyone. Don't ask me more than that. Deal?" Suoh said, as if he was negotiating a treaty.

"How am I supposed to know him if…."

"Ask him. He doesn't share if you don't ask." He probably wouldn't share if asked, but it was worth a shot. "He's not the type to reminisce. He calls the past a thief."

"So I just say…..tell me about your childhood?" Akihito asked deepening his voice which sounded kind of funny, and broke into a grin and stroked his chin. "I'm sure he'd like to lie on the couch and have me analyze his psyche." He tightened the prosthetic and jumped up and tested it. "Well, that will have to do, then."

Again Suoh wasn't sure what he was referring to, but he didn't ask because right then his phone gave a little chirp, and he pulled it out, noticing Akihito bounce into the kitchen and rumble through the cupboards. That boy was noise with dirt on top.

"Here?" Was all he said and then frowned and pinched his nose. "Let her in." He added, and quickly punched speed dial and waited, his other hand going underneath his suit to feel his shiny gun there. Hello shiny gun!

"Boss, your mother is here." He said quickly, not waiting for the abrupt _Asami _he always got when he called.

_"__Where is Akihito?" _Suoh inwardly smiled, of course the boy was his first concern, always his first concern, and had been since Hong Kong, even when he dumped him a year ago. That was an especially bad White Day.

"In the kitchen, looking for something to eat." Suoh replied, peaking around the corner to find Akihito standing on a stepstool getting out the Pocky box, which for some stupid reason, was put away empty. He heard Akihito say a little _shit_ under his breath and throw the box toward the trash, missing it entirely.

_"__Is he."_

There was a brightness in those two words that Suoh hadn't heard in a while. Clearly, Akihito eating was a milestone.

There was a silent pause (because pauses were usually silent) before Asami said loudly a word he usually never says, unless he was referring _to_ fucking. "Fuck." There was another pause, and a loud clink followed by another rumbling _fuck._ Suoh imagined Asami was pouring himself a healthy glass of scotch. Asami must really hate his liver.

"Orders?" Suoh asked, when the silence had gone on too long.

_"__Tell Akihito that as host he will greet her with a smile. He doesn't have to mean it, but just smile."_

There was another long pause and Suoh wondered if he had heard wrong or Asami had thrown the phone against the wall, which he was known to do on occasion, usually after he got some kind of news that left him in a bad mood or when the Giants lost.

_"__And let his words have weight." _

"Weight?"

_"__He'll understand." Click_

Suoh found Akihito, eating a piece of bread like it was his favorite thing in the world. "Was that Asami?" He asked, after he swallowed, looking like he was half choking on the dry meal.

"His mother is coming to the house. She's at the gate." Suoh stated quickly. "He said to greet her with a smile and let your words have….weight?"

"Weight. Journalism saying." Akihito said, as if that explained everything, which it didn't, not to Suoh anyway, but there wasn't time for a writing lesson. Akihito's crumb covered lips broke into a smile. "Uh huh," said the boy with the bread. "She's a bitch, I take it?"

Suoh nodded. "Even Akira cringes when she's around." Suoh said, listening for the door knock that was sure to follow.

"That's saying a lot." The boy wiped the crumbs from his lips with his shirt sleeve. "I'll play host, then, I've got no choice."

They froze, it was a horror movie, watching the door inhale and exhale with each clump of the woman's tight-fisted, long nailed hand. Why the woman wasn't ringing the bell, they didn't know. Then she rang the bell, not once but six times, in rapid succession, like she was leaning on it.

"For whom the bells tolls." Akihito said and quickly added, "Why do I feel like a lamb being led to slaughter?"

Suoh felt a sense of pride watching the boy greet this newest wrinkle, welcoming it with both arms wide open, crumbs on his sleeve and only words as his shield.

P-B-B

"She wasted no time." Asami said, and clicked off the phone.

"Your mother? Would you like to head to the house?" He assumed that Asami would be the type of man to break some kind of land-speed record to reach the house in record time, and Kirishima would be right, usually.

This time, however, he was wrong.

"I'll let Akihito handle it. I seem to antagonize her. I think my very existence grates on her nerves, probably because I look like my father and you know how she hated him." He folded his arms across his chest and sat back in the limo. "Suoh is there anyway, he'll make sure things don't come to blows."

The thought of Akihito and Asami's mother duking it out filled him so full of merriment, that Kirishima started to chuckle, which earned him a nice evil glare from Asami.

Today was not the day for merriment. Today was White Day.

The cemetery didn't look any different since the last time they'd been here, except perhaps there were more graves, more weeds, more shrines, and a few more flowers placed haphazardly, but otherwise the same. Nothing changes in the cemetery. The dead were still dead, the living still mourning and missing, and the shinigami still looking for a soul to take.

"I will remain in the car." Kirishima stated, as Asami started climbing the many steps. Asami just nodded. This was his melancholy time, when he could cry if he wanted, although he never did. Kirishima always left him alone on this day. It was one of those unspoken orders Asami didn't have to give.

_Kobayashi._

Kobayashi's mother stood next to his grave, her hands clutching two pristine white chrysanthemums. He himself had brought pink roses, from his own garden and laid them without comment on the gray mottled stone.

"You need some time alone?" Kobayashi's mother stated. There was no greeting, no _hello, how are you,_ no empty words or small talk needed.

"What I have to say, you can hear." He said softly.

"You can let him go, Ryu-chan. He would want you to be happy."

She always called him Ryu-chan. They were really close, at one time. His life centered around the Kobayashi family's happy household, which seemed idyllic, even though it wasn't. Asami hoped she considered him a son, even though they only talked once a year.

He didn't comment, but kneeled on the stone, his knees now coated with gray dust. The incense perfumed air rose from the ground, out of a tiny hole, the scent caressing his face like a lover's fingertips, daring him to loosen his tongue.

"I want his permission, will I get it?"

"You are not the type of man to seek anyone's permission, yet you seek his. Why is that?" She asked, her red rimmed eyes apparent against her pale round face.

"You know I loved him, Kobayashi-sama. I know that's hard to hear but…." He didn't continue there was nothing more for him to say.

"It's hard to hear that someone loved my son? That still loves my son, enough to come here every year and place flowers on his grave?" She was almost yelling, but with a tone of bitter sweetness she always had in her voice, like she'd seen many trials, but still managed to get up again.

"My love killed him."

She traced the letters of the Kobayashi name simply carved into the gray granite pillar with a stubbed finger. "It's been a long time."

Somewhere, far away, a guitar played a light lyrical blues riff, tinged with a minor chord that struck a chord in Asami as well. It sounded bitter yet joyful. "Yes."

"I come here, but I know he's not here." She said, a tiny tear running down her cheek, catching the last remaining light of the day.

"I know." The guitarist's gift of music still continued the slow refrain now accompanied by a man's deep vibrato, so like the whispering moans of lovemaking. "And yet we come." He looked into her eyes, but found his dead lover peering back so he shifted his gaze to the flowers in her hand.

"And I continue to tell you every year, that this will be the last you have to come." She stated, placing one of the flowers in the tiny vase to the side.

"This will be the last, Kobayashi-sama."

"I'm glad to hear it. He is too." She gave him one of the chrysanthemums she'd been clutching in her hand and he took it, and placed it in a button hole. The flower of White Day was as innocent and pure as the snow that fell the first time he met Kobayashi, so long ago.

_"__Let it go…let it go….let it go." _Bluesman sang, a particular screech resonating off the white and gray stones of the dead.

He bowed to the woman and to the grave as a silent farewell, listening as the bars of the song echoed in the distance and soon faded away. There was no clapping, no cries for an encore, the memorials to the dead silent and without praise for a well-crafted tune.

He caught the eye of the musician as he left the cemetery and he dropped a few thousand yen in the open case set in front of the shabbily dressed man.

"You won't make much money from the dead." Asami said, noticing he was the only one who had placed coin in the velvet lined box.

"Yeah, dey won't complain 'bout it neither." The tall, thickly built man with the rough gray colored beard said. "So, I'm guessin' I won't either, neh?"

He nodded and flipped a toothpick in his mouth. "What's the name of that tune you played?"

"In the Pink until I'm Black and Blue…uh…..Blues." The old man with the odd gravely accent cackled through his missing teeth. "You like da blues?"

"Only when I'm standing at the crossroads, bluesman." Asami replied, causing the man to cry out a choked laugh.

"Sounds like you're going to get the thing that you want." Bluesman said, picking up his guitar and playing a short blues scale, his worn shoes keeping time with a slap against the concrete.

"There's a first time for everything." He gave a curt nod and joined Kirishima, who had a glass of scotch in his hand and held it out to him with a slight rattle of ice. "For me? Oh, you shouldn't have." He said, and took the drink.

Kirishima nodded and didn't say anything. There was nothing to say. He'd left his book of quotes at the office and although he felt naked without it, the situation called for neither words not orations of any kind anyway.

Sometimes it was better to keep silent.

Asami studied his reflection in the glass, not noticing the frown lines forming as the graves faded in the distance, zooming by, blurring together into one big mass of gray and white, set against orange colored clouds.

This was the last time he'd hate White Day.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter VI (6)

Uncertainly, because really certainty didn't enter into Akihito's vocabulary, Akihito answered the door with a grimace, pulling at the large metal handles and when no hands reached through the crack to snatch him, he pulled harder.

But judging by the horrified look on Suoh's face (like he had gas) he had expected some ghoulish monster perched on the other side, peering at him with weepy googly eyes, holding a glowing sword in one hand, and a thick shield in the other. Nothing could prepare him for what did stand there, balanced on those tiny feet.

The petite woman flashed her gold colored eyes at him but said nothing. She appeared to have horns growing out of her head, but on closer inspection, the horns mutated into combs, pulling her black hair tightly until her face went with it.

Asami's mother AKA the demon, the bitch, the witch appeared to be a little old lady. Perhaps she shape shifted just to catch you off-guard. That would explain their fear of her. It didn't make sense that four grown men, no, one insane crime lord and his three equally insane henchmen cowered under her watchful gaze.

But not him. He had a mother with an equal evil eye. He'd seen it before.

"Asami-sama," he said, haltingly at first. He cleared his throat and tried again. "Please, come in."

She nodded and narrowed her eyes at him, sweeping her gold eyes from the top of his head down to his feet and back up. "You're much _more alive_ than the photos I have of you."

Now he knew why they feared her. Contempt spewed from her red-orange painted lips with every clipped syllable of her tongue. He didn't know how to take that odd greeting. Obviously someone investigated him (he was used to that) and the emphasis on the words _more alive _meant he could also mean the opposite, as in _more dead. _Although you can't be more dead than just dead.

"Thank you?" He said smiling and cocking his head he thought in an endearing way. The woman frowned. He thought wrong.

"I brought a gift." She held out a white basket tied with a bow the color of dried blood which he grasped with two hands and bowed in thanks, probably too many times for her taste, as her frowned deepened.

"Thank you, Asami-sama. We will enjoy these." Whatever contained in the basket he'd throw out later, not because he distrusted her. Okay, he distrusted her.

_Beware of Greeks bearing gift_s, _and certainly don't let the wolf into your house._

Well, he'd broken one rule already. Let's hope that one broken rule doesn't come to bite him in the ass. Literally.

"They are not for you to consume. They are for my son." She said angrily.

_Would she poison her son? Probably._

She gave the room the inspection, which didn't take long, before taking a seat on the leather chair near the double front doors. Obviously, she didn't ask permission to sit, nor would she seek it. "But seeing as he's not here, I suppose you may partake in the sweets. I understand they are a weakness of yours." She added.

She eyed Suoh who had taken up residence in the kitchen, glued to the floor, unflinching. In fact he seemed so wax-like Akihito wondered if the warm room would make him melt.

"Dismiss him." She said quietly, obviously referring to Suoh the wax-like human.

"He's not mine to dismiss." He said quickly. If he so chose, he could dismiss Suoh, but he didn't chose so obviously, Suoh stayed. Suoh coughed and Akihito gave him a _help me _look and when Suoh shrugged in answer Akihito felt like a bear caught in a trap.

The silence felt jagged, a razor's edge after the cough died and the woman, (he'd ceased calling her a mother, she lacked the maternal nature of one) tucked her legs underneath her and rested her pale hands in her lap.

"Would you care for tea?" He asked, suddenly wanting to escape her presence and this seemed a good excuse. He would love to put ample distance between him and her, especially since she wore this odd perfume that smelled so sweet, you'd think the woman bathed in honey. It didn't make her countenance any sweeter though.

She ignored his question. "I'm here to deliver an ultimatum. I'm sure you're acquainted with what that means." She pulled out the manila colored envelope and holding it out to him with two hands, it seemed a heavy burden offered from those pale palms. "Since you might not be familiar with legalese…" There gave a not so subtle hint that she thought him either stupid or low-class or both with that statement. "…..I can give you the short version."

He snatched the envelope and pulled out a white, official looking paper stamped with the Asami family crest, a rather pedestrian zinnia flower forming a heart surrounded by a circle. A zinnia meant loyalty that much he did know. But loyal to whom? The fickle yen?

"So," she continued, "obviously my son won't leave your side, so I'm telling you to leave his." She said with a flick of a tongue. Akihito didn't look up from the paper as she said those bitter words as he read the simple contract with a rising flutter in his stomach.

Like an oracle, he felt Asami's warm hand cover his and his equally warm deep voice whisper in his ear.

_Just breathe, Akihito._

He breathed and the warmth on his hand remained. "Five percent of profits from Asami family holdings, a minimum of 80 million yen annually until you pass." He read, and put the paper aside on the shiny polished table. He bit back a bitter laugh, to the point where he almost bit his own tongue. "80 million yen a year to leave your son's side. What do you take me for?" He said, his temper starting to flair like fireworks on a summer night. "Why do you want to hurt your son?"

"I'm protecting him from a gold digger." She said bluntly. "By the way, I plan to live to a hundred. So, let me do the math for you….that's 30 years times 80 million yen. Well, I'm sure you can do rudimentary math."

"And if I don't take the deal, if I don't leave?"

"To disown a child for their actions…..that's not unheard of, is it?"

"Asami is not a child. And I certainly won't leave his side because an old crow like you caws in the rice fields." He spat.

"You seem to misunderstand, I will get what I want. Sometimes the hard path is chosen, sometimes the easy path, but either way, the destination is the same." She flashed him the glare meant to kill him, if glares could kill. Her's probably would, actually.

"Glare all you want, but let me ask you a simple question," He said seriously. "If I were female, would we still have this conversation?"

"Yes, we would." She answered, just as seriously. "You, Takaba Akihito are flying too close to the sun. You will get burned."

"So, you are here to ruffle my feathers, is that it?" He pulled out a red Mizuho savings book out his front right pocket and threw it on the table in front of her. "I don't ruffle easily."

"A savings book of a little nothing? I'm supposed to be impressed by your few yen?" She said bitingly. She picked up the book and flipped through the pages. After a few minutes had passed a crack started to appear in that powdered mask she wore. Her look of disdain transformed into something close to defeat.

"My employer feels bad about my accident." He tapped his fake leg with his fist. "This was their compensation. I don't have to work if I so choose. However, I believe a man should earn his keep. Don't you feel the same?"

She didn't comment, but placed the red book on the table, half-way between them.

_Let your words have weight._

"I will receive twice what you offered me every year for the rest of my life." Akihito continued. "But I'd rather have my leg back."

_Let your words have weight._

When he could stand her silence no longer, he continued. "And by the way, I plan to live to be a hundred. Let's do the math. That's another 75 years. Seventy five years times 160 million yen….."

Suoh coughed again and Akihito chose to smirk right about then. Now he understood why Asami smirked so much. Nothing satisfied like winning, and he had won, for once.

"My mother negotiated this for me, while I lay in a coma. She's a master at the art of negotiating. She's a _nice_ lady." He said emphasizing the word _nice_. He tried to keep from grinning but he couldn't help it, so he grinned, baring his teeth. "Therefore, you'll excuse me if I refuse your kind offer." He said formally.

He felt warmth spread in his left hand, perhaps from the ghost of his grandfather, come to support him. He didn't feel alone anymore.

The woman took the contract and quietly, put it back into the envelope. She appeared deflated, a popped balloon lying on the floor long after the party had ended. "Does Asami know of this money?" She asked finally.

"I assume he does, he knows everything about me, although I've never mentioned it to him. I'm afraid finances baffle a working man like me." He said with sarcasm. He turned to Suoh who had the biggest grin he'd ever seen on the man's face. "Does he know about it, Suoh?"

"Uh…yes." He answered quickly, the grin approached something comical, like he'd put on a clown mask. "He does."

"I'm surprised you didn't, I guess you're informant wasn't thorough." He said, not knowing what else to say to the woman. He took a deep breath and shifted in his seat when the woman didn't raise her eyes from the tiny gold ring glittering on her finger. "I won't leave your son's side." He said defiantly and with finality. "Just to be clear."

"You're foolish to think this is over. I can make your life a living hell."

His grin died, his lips felt heavy as they deepened into a frown. "Yeah, I've been to hell and back." He looked around. "It doesn't look like this though, this is pretty nice." He said, gesturing wildly. "But what does a commoner like me know."

"So, you've chosen the hard path, Takaba Akihito."

"This isn't about money, is it?" Akihito said. Uncharacteristically, he felt strength rather than fear, perhaps understanding her motivation. "Are you like my mother, and whine about grandchildren, about continuing the Asami legacy?"

He saw a flash of anger in those gold eyes, which died quickly. "Like you, I want a family. I want to fill this house with love."

"Love. Love between men, how foolish."

"I once questioned love existing between men, too." He rested his fists on his dirty green shorts, the ones he'd worn camping and dug his nails into his filthy palms. "But Asami has shown his love for me in some rather fool hardy ways. Suoh wouldn't you agree?"

Suoh nodded. "I would say so, Takaba-san." The _san_ wasn't lost on Akihito. That gesture of respect didn't go unnoticed by the woman in black, who narrowed her eyes at the guard dog. Guard dog ignored it. Good dog.

Akihito stood up, intending to show her out. They'd talked enough. "In the end," he shrugged, "we do foolish things for love."

The woman actually sighed, in defiance or in defeat, he couldn't say, but she stood also, those tiny feet sure and steady as she hitched up her kimono and went towards those double doors.

"You're welcome here anytime." Although he didn't mean it, he trusted she'd never visit again, although she'd continue to harass him somehow. "I'd love to hear about Asami's childhood." He flashed her the _Takaba_ smile, the one his mother gave when all else failed.

"You may have stolen my son's heart when he fell for your charms, Takaba Akihito, but I'm not as easily deceived." She looked him up and down again, and gave him a blank-faced stare. "You're smarter than you look."

He gave her a deep low bow, and with that, she left, as suddenly as she came. The driver of her black limo bowed towards her as she approached, a twinkle appeared in the elderly man's eye as he grasped her hand and assisted the woman into the seat. Akihito thought he saw a smile grace those sunset colored lips as she held the hand for much longer than decorum allowed, before the limo swallowed her, and she disappeared into the dark.

Akihito lips curled into a smile. Perhaps the woman knew love after all.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter VII (7)

Asami, seemingly amused to the point of delight, (perhaps because he was on his fifth glass of scotch, perhaps because Starbuck's brought back the Lime Cooler, or perhaps because he'd received some great news), clicked off his phone and stared unblinking at Kirishima in the rear view mirror. Then he grinned and the world smiled back. Actually, no, it didn't, but it should.

With one eye on the road and one eye on Asami's blazing shit-eating grin, that only left Kirishima's third eye to watch for bad guys. It made Kirishima's face hurt, maybe because his glasses now fit too tight or because it was hard to look in three places at once.

"Good news, Asami-sama?" Kirishima asked, although from that delighted look, you'd think Asami's stocks had just peaked. Anyway, rising stock prices always got Kirishima excited. Actually, just the Giant's sports stats made him squeal like a girl…..er….not really. Asami called his numbers addiction _Math Porn, _as if good arithmetic skills were something to be ashamed of.*

"My Akihito…" Kirishima became aware of the sudden term of endearment coming from Asami's lips, "continues to surprise me."

Asami had lost it. Officially lost it. Call the hospital because Asami was checking in. Diagnosis: love sick. Treatment: Take Akihito as needed until Akihito's ass falls off. Poor Akihito, no iron ass in the world could save him now.

"Your mother?"

"Will try again, that I'm sure of." Asami's _sure _equaled 99.99999%, so when he said _sure, _he meant it. He had probably calculated it once when he had nothing better to do. "That first stone's the hardest to place. After that, it's all strategy."

"Understood." Actually, he didn't understand, not really. Although that cryptic analogy meant something, or obviously he wouldn't have said it.

They fell into sleepy stillness, a lazy calmness between two men who didn't require words to communicate. They used their eyebrows and their guns when words seemed unnecessary.

"However I play to win." He added finally.

_Oh. Some kind of Go/Chess/Monopoly analogy._

Phone in hand, Asami dialed quickly (Akihito=speed dial #1), and sat back with a drink in his hand and a smirk on his lips. Kirishima thought he'd rechristen _White Day_ as _Smirk Day_ because he'd seen a lot of smirking in the past hour.

Kirishima concentrated on driving, getting that other eye back helped as he maneuvered through traffic towards the Club Olympus AKA the Greek themed club, and the location for tonight's invite-only-once-a-year-mostly-staff-and-friends-costume-party. Eight years ago it started as a no-hyphen no-titled Staff Party, and since then had grown until he'd run out of hyphens.

"I hear you've been a good boy," said the sadistic crime lord with the deep timber, his grin deepening as he spoke in hushed, erotic tones.

_Oh no._

Asami's seductive voice droned from the backseat, you couldn't escape it - that voice that drove dogs, fangirls and ukes mad. Of course, it didn't always work on Akihito, obviously, because Asami held the phone away from his ear, cringing as Akihito called him names.

_Bastard…_

_Asshole…._

_Perverted bastard asshole…._

_…__and etc._

But somehow, in some weird fashion, Asami enjoyed it when Akihito called him names. Explain that logic in their illogical world full of gay crime lords (ok, he wasn't gay he had preferences), feminine looking Chinese assassins, and silver-haired Japanese boys with hazel eyes one day, and blue eyes the next.

"You sound so kittenish, little kitten. Did my mother ruffle your fur?" Asami whispered, casually checking his perfect nails as if kittenish (which didn't seem like a word, but actually was) was something he uttered every day.

Kirishima tried his best to ignore whatever passed as verbal foreplay between those two, wondering why the partition remained lowered. _Please raise the partition Asami-sama. _He begged mentally. But the glass didn't move, even when Kirishima used his telepathy. Guess neither he nor Asami could read minds, even though they thought they could.

_More distant yelling._

"Oh, are you concerned for me? I'm sure I can handle my mother, not well, but I can handle her." Asami said, sounding rather bored. There was a long pause and some more muffled yelling.

"That's so cute, Akihito. Simply cute. I want to pet your ruffled fur. Can I pet your pretty fur? Or will I get scratched by your nasty sharp claws….mmmm?"

_More yelling._

Kirishima never could understand why Asami antagonized the boy. Perhaps as a method of torture, used to anger the subject until they popped a blood vessel. It saved having to kill him the old fashioned way, with fists, guns or knives. Less bloody too.

"All right, all right. I'll watch my back if you insist, but I really like that you're worried for my heath, kitten. It makes me tingle all over." He placed his hand over the phone and whispered quietly, "double the guard at the mansion, Akihito's only cut off one of my mother's nine heads."

Asami's answer to everything: Double, triple, quadruple the guard. And quadruple the number of shots in his venti iced three-pump vanilla soy latte no whip, because the night was just beginning.

P-B-B

He rolled the partition up, watching Kirishima's shoulder's relax at the same time while continuing to hold the phone an arm's length away as Akihito continued his tirade.

"Kitten my ass! I don't trust that woman! She threatened me!" Said the boy with the mouth.

Today Akihito's volume really did go up to eleven. Asami's smirk took permanent residence on his face as he tried to calm Akihito down, or rile him up, he hadn't decided which. "You handled it. In fact, you impressed Suoh so much he's starting an Akihito fan club."

"Hmmph." Akihito sighed, sounding very irritated, as usual. There was another sigh, which meant the next words out of Akihito's mouth would be…..

"We need to talk."

Ah….right on cue. "Yes. So talk." Asami replied, getting out his notebook of things Akihito and he needed to talk about….like sex, how much sex and when he could have sex. (Yes please, a lot and all the time).

"Uh…"

"Where did confident Takaba Akihito go, or is that a face I'm not allowed to see? Is that a face you only show others, when your back is against the wall?"

"Uh….."

"Or is it that your lips don't work around me, because your brain is occupied with fantasies…..of my hands gliding over your heated flesh, you lips parting, waiting for the gentle coming together of our tongues."

"Gentle coming together…..my ass." Akihito took one deep ragged breath and muttered Asami's favorite word: "Bastard."

Asami chuckled slowly, each chuckle coming deep from his chest. "So what shall we talk about, hmmmm? Shall we talk about how you're not coming tonight, and how, I, the great Asami Ryuuichi, shall walk into the club with no date on his arm?"

"Deal with it, Asami-the-great-my-ass-conceited-bastard." Despondent Akihito had disappeared during his sojourn in the mountain. This one, the pre-Afghanistan Akihito he remembered with fondness? Ok, love/hate…..type of fondness.

"Then get lots of rest, because when I come home….."

Akihito choked, on his own spit or on Pocky. "I will be well-rested anyway, but not for…._your amusement _Asami, I slept all day." Asami heard an unspoken bastard in there somewhere.

Another heavy sigh came from Akihito's lips. Asami wondered if Akihito had any air left in his lungs. "I have things to do, a whole season of the Mentalist to watch in one night and stuff."

"And stuff…..you missed the big reveal and Red John is actually….." Asami's smirk broadened until a smile. Now he would have smile wrinkles now.

"Shut up, no spoilers….shut up…..lalaalalalala."

He was sure Akihito had his hands over his ears, his eyes clenched tight. He chuckled again. "All right, I won't spoil it for you. But really, I'd rather you rest. Sensei's orders, right?"

"Sensei…..I guess I owe him a big thank you, or something along those lines. I don't know…"

"Does this mean I keep my pinky?"

A muffled huff and Asami heard a smirk in that voice. "For now."

"Does that mean I take you sailing? That was the deal, if you remember." He didn't mention his still vivid fantasy of playing pirate captain and tying Akihito to the mast while he raided the local villages of their plunder, which actually meant raiding all the gift shops of their ugly shells with googly eyes glued to them and returning them to the sea, where they belonged.

"That sounds…um….nice actually, I guess, but it's so weird. Are you Captain Asami now?" Asami could picture Akihito's hand on the back of his head, tugging at his black and blond hair as if trying to make it behave.

"That's Captain Jack Sparrow." Asami said emphatically.

Akihito giggled. He hadn't heard Akihito giggle ever. "In the movies, Sparrow never gets the girl."

"He's married to his ship, like all good Captains."

"Ships don't give head." Akihito snorted. _"_When are you coming home? Late?"

Asami would have smirked, but he was already smirking. "Does my kitten need some milk? It might be late, this party tends to carry on." And on, and on, until he kicked everyone out or fired them, or both.

"You're gross. I just….I wish I could come, but it's a lot of people."

"You can make it up to me later."

"I'm sorry."

Akihito's _sorry_ hit his chest like a dozen Cupids arrows striking the same place every time. He dropped his _Super Asami Teasing Tone _and opted for _Super Asami Concerned Tone_, which he didn't use very often. Not that he didn't care he just….ok, he didn't care, except for money, his reputation and something starting with _A _and ending with _O._ "Akihito, listen…..I would be there by your side the whole time, I won't leave you for a second, but if you don't want to, I understand."

"If I have one…one of my episodes, I just don't want to make trouble for you."

"You're already enough trouble. But it's trouble I can handle. My mother, however, I leave to you." Super Asami Teasing Tone came back, like a bad rash or that scraggly stray cat you don't want yet continue to feed anyway.

Akihito laughed, hard this time. The thought of Akihito's laughter shaking the bed they shared, tears rolling down his cheeks like diamonds on a little girl's necklace, the tears of his laughter were gems indeed. You would think that Asami had something wrong with him, like he was head over heels in love, but that would be silly, because as everyone knew, he wasn't that type of man.

Akihito's laughter rumbled out, and he fell silent, except for the occasional heavy breath and twitter of leftover glee.

"Ak-i-hi-t-o." He said his name slowly, threateningly. Drawing the syllables as if three weren't enough to identify everything that made up the boy. His boy, his kitten.

Akihito paused suddenly. "Sorry, that made me laugh, you were saying?"

"Give me something to think about tonight. Give me a token of your love to carry into battle. For luck."

"What? A token? You're going to a party, not a battle."

"One and the same…..touch yourself, Akihito."

"Asami that's…"

"I want you prepared, I want that pretty pink hole good and wet when I step in the door. I want you, ass up, waiting for me." He commanded.

"What?"

Irritated Akihito always pretended not to hear you the first time so Asami repeated himself, louder this time. "Ass up, wet, prepared, waiting." He put a finger up for each item, as if Akihito could see him. He just didn't want to leave anything off. _Ass up, check. Wet, check. Prepared, check. Waiting, check._

_"__What?"_

"Yeah, you heard me. Think of it as punishment for taking off to Mount To, for kicking Suoh, for letting the air out of all the tires of my cars. Even the mini-van."

"Well…you would have chased me through the streets of Tokyo!"

"Would you care to add another infraction? Because that's a big list already."

"You're a pervert! And I'm hanging up!"

"If you want to label me a pervert, fine. I accept the title. But if you hang up, I'll just tell Suoh to _bring me the boy _and you'll wear cat ears and parade around saying _meow meow meow."_

Akihito squeaked in response. He probably covered his ass with his hands too.

"Or perhaps you enjoy a little punishment? Perhaps I should withhold sex. That's it, isn't it? You're trying to irritate me so I _will_ pound you into the mattress."

"Pervert." Akihito sounded more amused than irritated.

"Touch yourself, Akihito."

"You….you're a bastard." There seemed a lot of heavy breathing on Akihito's side of this conversation, and Akihito hadn't run any laps.

"And you, Akihito are adorable. So adorable, I may cancel this whole party and just take you over my knee and spank you until that ass is nice and red. Would you like that?"

"N—no."

"Hmmm….now that would be a nice color to paint Club Sion, cherry ass red, like my kitten's ass. Then, when I'm working, I'd look on the walls and think about my beautiful red handprint on my beautiful kitten's red round ass."

"You're talking about paint colors?"

"I'm talking cherry red, glowing with my hand print."

"Asami…stop."

Akihito's resolve started to crack, just a tiny line in that deteriorating defiance.

"You like that…_smack…_that smack sound? My hand coming down on that beautiful round ass of yours? MMm…_smack." _He flicked his tongue over the roof of his mouth and with the suction of only his talented pink tongue, he made a sharp _slap_ sound.

"Stop it…Asami."

_The crack got wider._

"Each smack harder than the last. And you wiggle on my lap, your cock getting harder and harder as you squirm against my thighs. You love pain with your pleasure, don't you my kitten."

"A—Asami, please stop."

_And wider._

"You can beg all you want, but I won't stop. Each smack lands in a different place, so you can't get used to the pain. But it's not pain, is it? It's pleasure and pain. So like that moment right before you cum, that white heat burning in your toes and you scream your release."

"Asami." His name sounding as a breathless whisper now.

_And shattered into pieces._

"That's it. Are you hot for me? Touch yourself, kitten." He lowered his voice to the point where he could sing bass. "Touch that hard cock, that is not a suggestion, it's not a request….I want to hear you."

A trembling Akihito evident in his irregular breathing whispered in his ear, "_Yesss."_

"Tell me Akihito, when I take you, do you like it from behind better, or from the front?"

"F—front. I like to touch you."

"Do you? You want me to see you cum, don't you, that blush on your face, head thrown back, sweat stinging your eyes. That blush dancing across your face with every thrust of my cock, teasing me, tempting me."

"Oh….it's…." Akihito spoke in short gasps, speech almost becoming impossible with every shallow word.

"Stroke yourself, stroke it until you feel that sweet burn. I know how it feels, the gliding of my hand like hot velvet around that cock of yours. It's my hand there now."

"Mmmnnhhh."

"Stop. Open your eyes. Do it Akihito."

"Ho—how did you know my eyes are closed?" That sweet voice, so aroused, made Asami's pants tight.

"There's nothing I don't know about you, is there? There's a button to the right, it's a red button. Do you see it?"

"Ye—yes. It's not to a secret room, is it?"

"No, push it and watch above you."

He heard a click and a sudden intake of breath. "Mirror?"

"Keep your eyes open, watch yourself, give into it, Akihito."

"Are you..are you touching yourself?"

He loved that tentative voice of his boy, so innocent in his naivety. "No, I'll wait for better things. I want you to immerse yourself in pleasure. Let me hear you, let me guide you. I know what you like Akihito. I know because I've watched you when you cum."

"It's soo….mmmnnnhhh, so hot. My hand….the mirror."

"Does it feel like my hand? Can you imagine my mouth around your cock? So hot around it, gliding up and down, stopping, restarting. Your cock slick, jolting in my mouth."

"Y-Yes."

"Make your hips do the work, still your hand and fuck it with your cock. You like that, when you fuck my mouth, rocking your hips in and out, and my mouth swallowing it, humming around it, moaning as I take you."

A heavy swallow. "Ohh…Asami… don't stop."

"Spear my mouth with your cock. Let me taste it, such a heady sweet taste. Do you like when I stroke you with my hand while I suck you?"

"Asami….I'm going to cum."

"Not yet. Are you watching yourself? Describe it….all of it, I can't see, I'm blind, I want to see you cum through your eyes. You're a journalist…..write for me."

"Mmmm…..my face is flushed….my shirt pulled up. I have the phone….it's…it's"

"Where's the phone?"

"It's fallen to the side, near my ear, I can't hold it…"

"Your eyes? What do the eyes tell you, Akihito?"

"I'm aroused."

"For whom are you aroused…did you dream about me? Did you dream of me fucking you?"

"Yes…we fucked in my dream, and I…mmmmm"

"Did you cum? Tell me your dream….did you feel my hot cock pounding into you in your dream?"

"So hot….I wanted to fuck you in my dream."

"Did you get the chance to?"

"No—ooo….we…I'm gonna cum…my thighs are twitching."

"Maybe you would like to, is that what your dream is telling you? You want to push that cute cock of yours into me and ride my ass? I'm under you now. You're cock in my hole, pounding me over and over. I'm moaning underneath you, screaming your name. Is that what you want?"

"Ye-yes…"

"You have but to ask, that's all."

"Asami…..please…I….I'm going to….cum…please…let me cum."

"Cum for me, Akihito. Yes…..you're losing it, that control, let it go. Let me taste you, that liquid fire. I want all of you."

"Asami..yes…ahhhh…" Screamed Akihito, the sound throbbing with Asami's beating heart, the sound making Asami himself come undone.

_Submission was all he asked for._

In the silence that followed, except the droning of Akihito's heavy shallow breaths, Asami realized that Kirishima had circled the club more than a dozen times.

"Ass up, wet, prepared, waiting for me." He reminded the boy, who finally seemed coherent enough to understand speech again.

"Bastard."

"Brat."

"See you soon." Click

Asami rolled down the partition. "Circle around again." He pulled the gold ring out of his pocket and twirled it in his fingers.

_Submission was what he got._

* Reference to Math Porn by Sunflower1343, and art DJ by Marybala.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter VIII (8)

Sensei Shimezu didn't expect the slightly disheveled look gracing Asami's normally indifferent face as he sauntered into the VIP room at Club Olympus. The only thing giving the appearance of untidiness was Asami's missing tie, lost somewhere between the front doors of the club and the VIP room, where Asami currently held court or whatever he called sitting in a private room by himself.

Come to think of it, he thought he saw a glowing black tie (although it was hard to tell the color under the neon lights of the dance floor) tied like a sweat band on a young girl's head as she writhed inside a clear plastic cage, a snake (a real one) wrapped around her naked body, barely covering her tits.

One would think the tie-less god-like man sitting god-like on his god-like throne in this godforsaken place had somewhere to go and something (or someone) to do, because Asami the god-like man (at least in his mind) glanced at his watch every few seconds, like he could speed up time. Being god-like meant like a god and not a god, although Asami probably didn't get the subtle difference, so he didn't actually have control over time, a fact that seemed to irritate him, judging by those frown lines on his face.

Asami had an uncharacteristic, aloof way of greeting him and his companion as Asami downed an amber colored cocktail like a man dying of thirst. The greeting not a greeting at all, but a gesture with two fingers toward two empty overstuffed purple chairs shoved into one corner of the oblong room.

"You look a little green around the gills, Asami-san." Sensei said with a cigarette bobbing in one hand his other hand occupied rubbing his lover's brightly dyed yellow hair. "Throwing a temper tantrum?"

Asami seemed to totally ignore everything the man just said, as usual. "Enjoying the party?" He even sounded disheveled, his voice slightly thick, as if his tongue didn't work. Or it could be some trick of the room's sound dampening features, which didn't work either, as the faint _boom boom _of the bass radiated through his toes. "Well, so am I, so am I." He added finally, although Sensei never answered his question.

Sensei thought he heard sarcasm in that statement, but Asami's tone hadn't changed, so he wasn't sure. "Dateless again? And here I had hoped our two pets would frolic for our enjoyment." Sensei admired the beautiful young man hungrily. His date seemed more cat-like than man in his spotted spandex leotard with matching tail and ears. Spotted pet wrinkled his nose and gave a little _mew _noise, even though leopards _roar_, not _mew_. He gave that twitching nose a soft pet with his pinky.

Asami rolled his eyes. "My _pet _is shy and refuses to come out of his cage. He's spent a better part of the week up at Mount To." Asami picked up a cigarette from a cobalt blue box. "I would blame you for it, but then again…." He waved the cigarette in his direction. "Actually I do blame you, you made him think too much. I've gotten a headache from his thinking too much."

"He meditated under a waterfall, neh?" He asked his high voice thick with mockery. "You can throw blame my way but we all know…" He pointed a stubbed finger towards Asami, "that it's entirely your fault."

"It was under a bodhi tree, actually, and it's never my fault, even when it is." Asami lit up the cigarette and waved it around in the air, perfuming the already ripe room with the scent of smoke. He coughed a little. "Not my brand."

"I think your Akihito has taken Buddha's Noble Truth _Life is Suffering _literally, don't you think?" Sensei blew a puff of smoke out of his nose forcefully. He liked to do that, it made, at least to him, look like a dragon. "So, what you're telling me is the boy is healing nicely? Thanks to me? Here, stroke my ego some more, I need stroking."

The beautiful man next to him stroked not his ego, but the nipples underneath his pristine white toga. Sensei inhaled and exhaled several times and threw back his head dramatically.

Asami seemed to ignore his lack of modesty, not that he had any to begin with. "Ah….the tragic tale of Akihito the hero…..continues to run at the local playhouse….it's the tearjerker of the century." That one eyebrow rose making the lines on his forehead wrinkle, looking like faded scars. "And my mother visited him tonight. That's enough tragedy for anyone to endure."

"She could play Medusa rather well, don't you think?" Sensei smirked. "So why didn't you bop the boy on the head and drag him here for White Day?"

Asami shrugged and eyed the statue of Aphrodite that seemed to materialize suddenly at his side. Then, the statue winked at him. Asami turned and with calculated indifference on his face, offered the goddess his cigarette. "Here, I quit smoking." Asami said with a wink of his own to the goddess before turning back to Sensei. "You know I always go stag on White Day, it's the tradition."

Asami's face darkened and his lips curled for an instant, and then, just as quickly, the look subsided. "Have you been consorting with Bacchus, Asami-san? You seem a little tipsy to me." Sensei asked, his glasses reflecting purple from the purple hued lighting, coloring all the white columns lavender, like the flower that's also purple.

Asami admired the goddess standing regally next to him, watching her smoke his offered cigarette. The goddess appeared like a statue, moved like a statue, if statues could move, jointed arms stopping and starting with each little breath. She looked naked, save for the tiny thong covering the genital area.

"Bacchus is in the house! It's a White Day tradition to get shit-faced at my party." Asami took two tiny sips of his drink, and then downed the rest of it. "I'm upholding all my White Day traditions, it's the tradition and they must be upheld. So, I'm upholding them."

If Sensei seemed shocked at Asami's colorful dialogue he tried not to show it. Asami was drunk, and he tried not to show it. No one showed their actual faces on Sion Corps White Day party, since it was a costume party. So you could wear any mask you wanted, or take off the mask you showed the rest of the world, or not.

The goddess standing there with his half-smoked ciggy leaned over and traced the lines on Asami's face with her nails. "Poor baby, got dumped?" She said. There was no mistaking it after he opened his mouth. The goddess had a deep, smoke-tinged voice with an Adam's apple the size of a golf ball that bobbed underneath the white liquid latex coating his throat. There was no mistaking it. The goddess was no goddess, but a god, a jewel among men. But, like good men and good statues he saw everything, but remembered nothing. "Be filled with Aphrodite's love." He whispered, his lashes fluttering with every word.

"I wasn't dumped, actually." Asami argued. "What is the opposite of dumped?"

"Kept? Like a pet?" Aphrodite the nymph-like goddess titled his head, while his stiff powdered hair wiggled, sending powder flying around the room.

"Oooo…wrong thing to say, Aphrodite. By the way, your penis is showing." Sensei said evenly, and without humor. "Go pollinate something."

"I'll bring you the house nectar, Asami-sama… in other words, a nice fresh carafe of water, you look piqued." He said, while sashaying his latex covered butt towards the door. Aphrodite grinned manically. "By the way, Jesus called, he needs his wood back."

"Hahhahaah heheeeh hoooho hooo….wrong era, but that was a riot anyway, your staff is vocal tonight." He laughed and patted his leg at the same time. The man-leopard hybrid crept up slowly and threw one leg over Sensei's thigh, mounting it like a horse. Sensei studied Asami with judgment, watching him as he evaded his eyes from their foreplay, pretending to admire the mirror covered ceiling instead. He pecked his pet's spotted cheek with his lips before taking playful nip at his throat. The pet inhaled through his teeth and caught Asami's eyes.

"You still with this blowhard, Nakai Sensei?" He asked the thoroughly aroused man currently dry humping Sensei's thigh.

"This blowhard gives good blowjobs." He replied, grinning, his thick black lashes barely containing the lust in his eyes. "He makes me happy…..are you happy Asami-san?"

Asami took another cigarette, since he'd given the first one away. "As a clam. Although I'm not sure why we associate clams with happiness."

"Now who is thinking too much?" Sensei pulled his toga up, the outline of his hard-on evident through his skimpy robe." "Where's your costume Asami-san?"

"I'm in costume. I'm a fired salaryman." He sniffed at the white chrysanthemum drooping from buttonhole and added with a funny grin, "I'm the walking dead."

"For you to be this blue, then you must have need of even a god's folly." Sensei replied.

"In the pink, rather than blue, it would seem." Asami took another deep drag of his cigarette and closed his eyes for a moment. "All these colors make my eyes hurt." He rubbed his eyes for emphasis.

"Don't tell me you stood in the rain without an umbrella and caught a cold." He gave his lover's chin a gentle lick with his overly long pink tongue, giving Asami the _doctor _look.

"I'm not sick." He poured another glass of scotch out of his giant carafe and held the glass almost lovingly.

"Well, I'm not that kind of doctor, but lucky for you, there is a doctor in the house, have a look at him Sensei Pet baby." He ordered.

The leopard/pet/sensei bounced off his lover's bare leg and grabbed Asami's face. "He doesn't have a fever. But you do look flushed."

"He's not that kind of doctor either, he's a veterinarian." Asami argued.

"And you're a dog, so it seems to work out in the end." Sensei grinned, he liked that analogy. _"Woof woof!" _

"Just don't shove a thermometer up my ass, I'm not a uke." Warned Asami, with a narrowing of his glazed over eyes.

"How much have you had to drink?" The veterinarian dressed as a leopard asked, wiggling his painted on whiskers.

"Not enough, Sensei, I'm still only seeing one of you." Asami discarded his half-smoked cigarette and closed his eyes.

"One is enough of me, right Master?" He gave his master/lover/partner a wink, his hard-on pointing straight up through his thin leotard.

Sensei Shimuzu's glasses fogged up and he coughed. "You should call it a night, Asami-san…you….uh…." He turned and grinned, admiring the sleeping, snoring form reclining haphazardly on the chair.

"Well, even the gods of men require rest." Sensei Shimuzu stated, flicking his cigarette in the porcelain ash-tray with the pictures of naked Greek men on the bottom.

"Poor Asami-san."

"Even rich men deserve to be happy, don't you think?" The leopard flicked his tail, tickling his lover's nose as he left the sleeping crime lord to his dreams of conquest.

"You can never be too rich, or too happy, my love." He gave his pet a spank on the ass, before losing themselves among the throngs of drunken costumed idiots.

With a low rumble in his throat, Asami answered with a snore.


	9. Chapter 9

Number 9 Number 9 Number 9

Asami thought he saw the waiter sigh, rather than heard him sigh, but the appearance of a blue glowing sweat drop on the boy's shiny blue-black hair substituted for a sigh that wasn't audible over the booming beat emanating from the club's speaker system.

"Asami-sama, you don't look well." The boy said, but the words didn't match the mouth and instead came out as sub-titles across the front of his chest. The subtitle read: _Asami,_ _you idiot, you blew up my shoe locker!_

"What?" Asami's face froze halfway through saying the word, so it only came out '_wha' _instead. His brow furrowed, at least that's how it felt, as the frozen face travelled until it affected his ears.

_What?_ He thought again, thinking about the word and wondering its origin for some reason. At least he thought he was thinking about the word '_what.' _When the word failed to roll off his thick tongue he chuckled instead.

"Uh…" Said the boy with very few features other than blue-black hair and a black jacket, buttoned all the way to the top of his neck. The boy exited the room, sliding the panel to the left and then closing it, all from a kneeling position, even though he was sure the club had swinging doors. Then, the boy did it again, although he was sure the boy had left. All that was left of the boy was his aura, repeating the action over and over again until it finally faded into nothingness, making nothing something.

"Uh….indeed?" Asami wondered aloud forcing his inner thoughts outer. He scratched the back of his neck, frowning at the feel of the back of his smooth hair. Right then, he wanted to sport a bad ass top knot with a swinging ponytail hanging down his back. Only Samurai wore ponytails and he felt ronin-like, with no topknot and no lord to fight for, which kind of sucked. He chuckled again, admiring the echo of his chuckle, which made him laugh harder.

_What was in that stuff…uh….the whiskey he drank earlier?_

It wasn't long, although Asami couldn't tell the difference between a long time or a short time, until Kirishima came in. He assumed it was Kirishima. He'd never seen the man look so two dimensional. He turned to the side and Kirishima disappeared, and then came back when he faced him. "Asami-sama? Are you all right?" Again the mouth moved but it didn't match the words that were written below him. The subtitles read: '_Catch him if he's alive, if he's not, kill him.' _Which didn't make any sense.

"The day is auspicious." Asami told his paper-thin second in command, imagining him kneeling before him. "I suggest we withdraw to the third castle." Kirishima cocked his head, and then did it again, and again, and again, until the man in the shiny glasses leaned over to the right and stayed there, crooked and cockeyed. "I'm sorry, Asami-sama, but are you all right? Should I hail a physician?" _Did he say hail? _"Hail all you want, Kake….that's your new name. Kake….but I do believe that the whiskey's gone bad." Again, the head cocked to the right, as if Kirishima was practicing some sort of yoga pose. Yoga pose….the leaning tower of Kirishima, made entirely out of cake, like his new nickname. Kirishima's right eyebrow rose until he could actually see it peeking above his black framed glasses. The other joined it, until it was one long caterpillar like eyebrow across the top of his forehead.

"Okay, Kake, I'm obviously hallucinating." Asami said slowly, his mouth seemingly crammed full of perfect teeth, almost too many. He smiled for some reason, and his whole face felt like teeth. "What was in that whiskey I drank?"

He tried to sit, not knowing if a chair existed or if his legs would cooperate. Of course, even in this weird world, he was right about both things. No chair backed him up and his legs wobbled slightly and felt rubbery. He edged his butt backward until his rubber-like legs hit the chair and then, slowly he sat in it.

Then, stood back up. The chair felt warm on his butt and he hated when someone else sat in his chair before him. It was like kissing someone else's butt. He never kissed butt (unless it was Akihito's), but to actually kiss butt, as in brown nose, was rule #2 on the tough mob boss list of no-nos. He liked _his_ butt kissed though (literally and figuratively). He planned on asking Akihito for just that service later tonight.

"Asami-sama, I'll get some help." Kirishima poofed out of the room. He was there one minute and gone the next, the only proof he'd been there was a little speck of blowing dust in the otherwise still room.

As soon as Kirishima left, he realized Kirishima was still standing there, waiting for orders, or to be excused to go the bathroom. Once he thought about Kirishima, two more popped up next to him, exact duplicates (because that's what exact means) of the other Kirishima.

"The gang is all here, all except Akihito, he's not in this arc." All the Kirshimas said at the same time. Asami finally noticed about twenty Kirishimas (although one was enough) in the room, it was rather hard to tell how many, because the edges of their bodies blurred together in a mess of vibrant colors.

"Is this an intervention?" He hoped it came out coherent but judging by the blank stares from some rather oversized identical eyes (which was odd) he guessed not.

Asami took a breath, feeling the air expand in his lungs, it felt cold, and only got colder once it touched his heavy frozen heart. "I can't wake up." Asami said in a tone that he hope would invoke fear but it didn't have the intended effect. "I'm hallucinating."

All the Kirshimas laughed instead.

"No, you….." He paused and when he did, a chill wind blew and pink petals floated in front of his eyes, even though they were inside. "…. don't understand."

The Kirishimas faded once he stopped thinking about them, so he thought about something else, someone else, as in Akihito the brat, hoping twenty Akihitos would show up and dance for him. Of course, he was right. He was always right. Even when he was wrong he was right.

"Bastard." The twenty or so odd Akihitos said loudly, all at the same time. It sounded like a booming beat and he felt it in his bones, the word _bastard. _He actually wished he was one, and then he wouldn't have to deal with _MOTHER._

_Mother….oh shit…don't think about her._ Akihito flounced away (which was a funny word so he said it aloud) just to prevent his mother from appearing.

"Flounced."

"Flounced."

Asami wilted in his chair (not like the flower), but like a piece of lettuce left out in the hot sun. He felt his soul come out of his mouth (if he had one), either that or his tongue no longer fit. He swung his legs over the side of the chair and they dangled as he thought about himself.

_His favorite subject._

He meant to have a conversation with himself about some things, like the future, or why the past mattered or what he would eat for breakfast tomorrow (eggs and aspirin, lots and lots of aspirin). He closed his eyes, because he had nothing better to do. This party bored him or excited him, he couldn't tell actually.

"Good evening, Ryuuichi. You don't mind if I call you that, do you?" His other self appeared sometime when he was thinking about having that conversation with himself, quite convenient really. He cracked a red gritty eye open and stared at his other self.

"Self, you're so gray. What happened to your color?" He asked himself.

"This is how you appear. To most people." Gray Asami replied back to himself, the more colorful (although not much) version of Asami. As in 2.0. "No matter how gallons of paint you throw at it, underneath you're still gray. Get used to it."

"Che." He stuck his tongue out at his other self, mainly because he couldn't get his tongue to fit in his mouth. "I'm not having this conversation with you."

"Yet you are. And I must say it's not like you to take candy from strangers." Gray Asami sat on the edge of the coffee table and crossed his legs. "You trust too much."

"And you, gray one, don't trust at all." He went back to closing his eyes, enjoying the pink color behind his lids. That view was calming, more soothing than looking at ashen gray Asami.

"Has the middle ground swallowed you up? Or are you still teetering on the edge of the sane and the insane?" Gray Asami started smoking. Not just smoking, but smoking several cigarettes at once. _Five maybe? Ten? _Asami lost count after the first one.

"In an insane world, only the mad are sane." Asami hid his nose in his jacket, hoping it would filter the smoke out. No luck, as his jacket reeked of smoke and cologne. Unfortunately his cologne, and not Akihito's.

"Nice quote, Ryuuichi, still on the Shakespeare kick?" Gray Asami stubbed out his multiple cigarettes under his black shoe, as the ashtrays next to him appeared full.

"Akira Kurosawa, actually, you should know that." Asami pointed out. "Unless you're telling me you don't know who that is, although I wouldn't be surprised if you didn't."

"I only know what you, yourself have forgotten." Gray Asami's gray eyes flickered in the purple hued room. You would think they'd reflect purple, but they only stayed gray.

"And what is it I'm supposed to remember?" Asami's headache built trying to remember what he'd forgotten. _Dry cleaning? Lube? Underwear (black of course)? Toothpaste?_

"Your crotch is on fire."

"My…crotch?" Well that explained the pain in his crotch. Without comment, or panicking (rule #3) he poured water from a vase containing ugly purple flowers onto his smoldering crotch. The sizzling sound it made and the smell of burnt fabric overwhelmed his already overwhelmed senses and he sank in his chair, hoping it would swallow him whole. Now his wet crotch had flowers growing out of it.

"You have a holey crotch." Gray Asami pointed out. "Should we erect a shrine?"

"Erect a statue for all I care."

"Ahh….here comes the calvary, I think they'll be seeing a side of you they've never seen."

"And what side is that?"

"Just a man, nothing more than that. So…see you later." Gray Asami blended with the drifting smoke from his burned crotch. "Because I'll still be around. By the way, you should have someone look at that."

"Yeah…." He straightened his hair as if that would distract him from his ripped pants, still wishing for that cool top-knot. Gray Asami Ryuuichi floated away, at least, that's how it appeared when Kirishima crashed into the room with a _thud_.

"I brought some help, Asami-sama. The senseis, they…" Asami smirked at his second in command, still wafer thin, although becoming thicker with each passing moment. "Uhh….."

"Sensei….sensei…sensei." He said in some sort of greeting at the three senseis: his teacher, the teacher's pet, and Akihito's weird pierced tattooed specialist.

"What seems to be the trouble?" They all said in unison, sounding like sirens ready to capture his ship and perhaps his soul as well.

"Something caught on fire and also, someone poisoned the water hole." He pointed to his crotch, and then to the carafe of whiskey with the drop of amber liquid left in the bottom. "Either that or I'm drunk."

Kirishima's nose twitched like a little rats in a cage, the white rats, with red eyes - that kind of rat. "You took up smoking, you should give it up again."

"That's insightful of you, Kake."

"Asami-sama, I would appreciate…" He closed his mouth, opened it again, and then closed it again. He was so tight lipped, his lips almost disappeared into his face.

The three senseis peered at his crotch. One adjusted his glasses, one flicked his tail, and the third shoved her enormous breasts into his face. He didn't remember her having such ginormous (another word that shouldn't be a word, but actually was) breasts. Perhaps she was wearing a push-up bra underneath her Japanese school girl costume. The thought of him thinking about bras made him ponder about bras and why he didn't like thinking about them.

_Shudder._

"Are you wearing a push-up bra Booby Sensei?" He called her that because he couldn't remember her name. What was it again?

He couldn't remember his name either. Oh that's right…_Bastard._

"Sensei…sensei…sensei….." Asami muttered, giving up on saying anything coherent and wondering why everyone ignored him. Perhaps he should say something else. "Bullocks." He said in English, which didn't get the reaction he wanted.

"Get the liquor analyzed, but from his eyes, it looks like ecstasy." Luckily, Booby Sensei actually went to real medical school for humans and not pets. "I would suggest you get him home, let him sleep it off."

"His crotch?"

"Please…I can take care of my own crotch." He said too late. They all leered at his crotch, rubbing their chins (even Booby Sensei).

"Your opinion, Sensei?" Booby Sensei said to the Pet Sensei.

"I'm not sure, it looks red, but it could be the natural color of his penis, what do you think Sensei?" He asked Glasses Sensei.

"STOP LOOKING AT MY PENIS!" Now he understood why Akihito yelled so much, it felt good.

"I would suggest lots of lotion and rest the area for at least ten days, it could blister."

"TEN DAYS! DO YOU WANT TO KILL ME?" He yelled again, giving the person nearest him a blast of his liquor breath.

"Look at it as an opportunity. Perhaps you can actually talk to Akihito, instead of chasing him around the house. You know….talk? You can actually do something with that mouth other than grunt, right?" Sensei, the one with the glasses, adjusted them and gave his pet a kiss on the lips. "We like talking sometimes, it beats silence."

"You…..it's all a conspiracy….all of you…" He pointed to each person in the room, including the real statue of Hercules in the corner. "All your fault and I'm going home." The door seemed far away and getting farther as he approached it. "You and Suoh are off the clock. Go on…shoo…."

The three weird Senseis bowed as he walked….no staggered out of the room, the door jam poking him in the ribs a couple of times before he finally navigated the door.

_It was going to be a long night._


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter X

"You let him get _WHAAAAATTTTT_?" Akihito fumed the word '_what' _coming out in ten syllables at least.

Asami stumbled into the house, immediately threw his arms around Akihito and gave his cheek a wet flick of his tongue. And of course, that brought out the worst in Akihito, so he started yelling, and blushing and yelling some more.

"Ahhh….stop it, what are you, a dog?" Akihito wiped the spit off his cheek, glared, the blush growing until his shirt swallowed it.

"Woof….woof," answered the drunk and stoned oddly dressed man with the pupils now rimmed with red river like blood vessels. Not very attractive and certainly not healthy.

Kirishima paled, looking whiter than usual and Suoh frowned, he'd been doing a lot of either frowning or grinning today. Akihito looked at the two lackey idiots irritatingly. "He's drunk, that's what he is…are you sure he's tripping?"

"We believe someone spiked his whiskey with ecstasy but we won't know until the tests are completed. He sounded really incoherent, and he was talking to himself." Kirishima's glasses stayed put on the bridge of his nose, but he poked at it in irritation anyway.

"Like no one ever talks to themselves." Akihito said to himself. "Why in the hell would someone spike his drink?" His voice lowered a bit so Kirishima would stop wincing and scratched the back of his head. He needed a spare brain to figure this one out. "And why didn't you take him to the hospital?"

"Asami's orders…..he didn't want to attract attention, the club's reputation…"

"The Club's reputation over his health? Are you nuts? You idiot!" He yelled in the direction of the two bewildered bodyguards, but the _'idiot´_ remark was directed at Asami. Actually Akihito chastised all of them, including himself for not going to the stupid party so now he had to hear this story second-hand. Maybe if he'd attended….

"I'm sorry Takaba-san, mistakes were made." Suoh gave his standard reason for crewing up. Other standard reasons included: _he kicked me _and _he ditched me._

"Yeah, I'd say so. I could see spiking it with something that would actually kill him, but this?" Akihito frowned and caught Asami's blood shot eyes. He never looked so vulnerable, just lying on the couch with one sinewy arm squirming before it flopped over the side, appearing boneless. It was….cute? Hmmm…that was pushing it.

"I don't feel very good, I'm going to lie down," seems Asami wasn't aware he was already lying down. Akihito approached cautiously, and when nothing happened but one bloodshot eye opening, giving him the once over and closing, he leaned down and patted his forehead. Asami closed his mouth with a sigh, to _out-of-it_ to take part in this conversation, if you could call it a conversation. It was more like an oral spanking.

"We'll get you to bed. All right?" Akihito said soothingly as if Asami were a child. He liked taking care of his evil crime lord. Maybe like is a strong word. Let's say he didn't mind it.

He only got to do it once, when Asami had a cold and even then Kirishima butted in every five minutes with lobster and he became the delegated errand boy. He could like nursing Asami though, that didn't mean he was less of a man, right?

"If I lay in the bed, it will blast off." Tripping idiot muttered. "And the lights have little wavy things coming out of them. I can see electricity!"

"What's the deal with his pants?" Akihito yelled again, his frustration too far into the red zone for him to deal with this without yelling.

"I'm sorry, Takaba-san, he dropped his cigarette and his pants…um…his crotch caught on fire." Kirishima stood there without emotion, but Akihito wouldn't be surprised if the man started apologizing to anyone who would listen.

"You're smoking again?" Akihito cringed at that familiar chastising tone. It sounded just like his mother's voice when she nursed his fight wounds again and again. His mouth always had things to say that he backed-up with his fists.

"Only during lunch, recess and holidays." Asami said without humor. "And maybe during sumo wrestling matches…oh and after sexxxxxxxx."

There went the remainder of Kirishima's color, the man so white he blended in with the marbled statue behind him.

"Che! Suoh…get the name of that guy that does that thing and also, I have to see a man about a dog. Did you get that Kake?"

"Kake?" If Akihito was in a jovial mood (he wasn't) he'd laugh at that. Instead, the men looked at each other and shrugged. "And where were you during all this? I swear! What is this with White Day? International Gangster Holiday? Do all gangsters take the day off today or is this just a Sion thing?"

Three identical shrugs from three identical black suits (except Asami's holey pants) as if that explained everything (it didn't). Kirishima shifted from foot to foot. "We're not gangsters, Takaba-san."

"No…no…we're not….we just play them on TV!" Asami yelled and smirked, enjoying the sound of his own voice or his own wit. "Come on…that's a funny joke!"

"No one is laughing! And hypocrite over there!" He pointed to Asami who cracked one eye open again and then closed it. "Who always lectures me about ditching bodyguards? Kirishima? Suoh? No it's you!"

"They were ninjas, and you can't ditch ninjas!" Asami said loudly. "Please tell me I didn't say that out loud!"

"Ninjas…seriously, Asami….where were all your guards?"

The tripping crime lord shrugged. "I sent them here. Most of them are here, somewhere on the property anyway. You can't see them….they're ninjas. I already told you."

He ignored the ninja part. It wouldn't surprise Akihito if Asami really did employ ninjas, or assassin maids or killer gardeners. "Asami…why? I had Suoh and the three other guys who look like Hercules, why did you think I needed extra security?"

"Because my mother can't be trusted….because I worry about you! Because…because I ran out of reasons." Yelled the man on the couch. "You make me worry! I'm getting gray hair!"

Even the crickets in the garden knew to stop chirping then. Akihito clenched his hands to keep from some kind of emotion bubbling up to the surface, mixed emotions, all jumbled together like the flavor in a bowl of udon.

"I'm sorry!" He said slowly trying to make something coherent come out of his mouth despite the feelings rumbling in his stomach. "I didn't know it upset you that much."

Whether Asami noticed his tears starting to fill his eyes or not, Asami touched his hand so gently, it felt like a light breeze. "I think it's time you two leave….if you find out the truth about who drugged me….I'll leave you to bury it." Asami ordered, still articulate enough to do his job while tripping, drunk and burned. "We have ample security so we don't need you two tonight. Go get laid. That's an order."

The two men couldn't get out of there fast enough, almost jamming their shoulders in the front door in their hasty exit. Akihito wondered why Asami continued to put up with those two, they must be blackmailing him.

Akihito waited until he heard the door close before he sighed and ran a finger through Asami's sweaty hair. "Why can't people leave us alone?"

"Because they have nothing better to do." Asami's eyelids remained closed, and he clutched the back of the couch as if he'd fall off.

Akihito lowered his voice to a whisper, seeing as Asami cringed every time he raised his voice. "I thought you died tonight….Kirishima and his stupid _'Asami is in trouble' _text, like I could do anything to help you."

"If I said I needed you, you'd come?"

"Maybe….." He rolled his eyes. "I suppose…..yes." He added finally.

Asami tweaked his nose. "So….how's your butt, you did what I asked, right? I may be tripping, but I'm not senile. I don't see that ass in the air."

"My butt?" Akihito laughed through his nose. "No way! Anyway….I thought you wouldn't be home for hours and who said I was going to do that? And besides," he pointed a finger towards Asami's crotch, "you are in no shape for nookie. Did you really burn…uh….your crotch?"

"It looks worse than it is."

"Why do you think someone drugged you?" Akihito called from the bathroom and brought back a wet washcloth and proceeded to wipe down Asami's sweaty brow with it.

"To humiliate me in front of my guests." Asami's eyes stayed closed, the lids fluttering with each touch of the cool cloth on his forehead. "That feels nice." He mumbled.

"Can you walk upstairs, maybe take a shower?"

"I like it here just fine, the stairs smell funny and the elevator might eat me."

"Ok, I can't argue with that logic. We need to get you undressed though, the smell of the burnt fabric makes my eyes water."

"You can take my pants off, if you like. You can do anything you want with me. I'm putty. I like being putty. It's fun to be putty. So putty me."

"That made no sense." Akihito laid his head on his chest, listening to the rapid thudding of his heart. "You had me scared, stupid Kirishima, I thought….I thought…dammit." There went the tears, first just one trickled down until it dribbled on his chin until it dropped onto Asami's suit jacket, followed by a few more that travelled the same path.

"Hey….are you saying you'd be sad if I was hurt?"

"Of course I would have!" Akihito sniffed and wiped the tears with the back of his hand.

Asami ran his fingers through Akihito's hair. It felt so good Akihito wanted to melt into the man's arms. "You're beautiful, Akihito."

"Beautiful….you idiot." Akihito groaned. "Seriously, no sex. Sensei's orders."

"I'm not burned, just a little….singed."

"Sex while high is not fun."

"I like your eyes, I like how you have two of them, one on each side, that's cute, you know. Here let me lick your eyes…come here…."

"Ahhh!" Akihito sprang up and backed away, but at the same time, he was holding his stomach to keep from laughing. "Seriously….Asami…I know that look. Don't get any ideas."

"Sensei didn't say anything about using other parts of my anatomy. You know….wink wink…nudge…nudge."

"So, to let me top, I would have to drug you."

"I told you…..you would just have to ask. I'm not a mind reader, although…" Asami looked thoughtful for a moment, "that would be a nice talent to have. Not sure if I'd want to hear Kirishima's thoughts though. He probably calculates pi in his sleep-3.1415926535…uh…and so on."

"Any mention of Kirishima or math and I'm out of here. It spoils the mood."

"Are you saying that you're in the mood?" Asami said hopefully.

Akihito hushed the drugged idiot spouting nonsense with a kiss, just a soft one, almost a welcome home kiss, then they parted and Asami's eyes glazed over. He pulled off Asami's burned pants and singed underwear without comment and examined Asami's groin carefully, trying not to blush when Asami's cock flexed. It looked the same as always. Of course, all that _no blushing _rule went out the window, followed by what was left of Asami's modesty, not that he had any.

Because the next thing out of his mouth was…..

"Say hello to Akihito, little Ryuuichi." Asami twittered. Not laughed, not giggled. Twittered. It sounded like a bird's first chirping of the morning and Akihito, his side already aching from trying not to laugh, gave up and laughed. This whole situation, funny as hell, especially the fact Asami was still wearing his suit jacket yet had on no pants. Funny as hell.

"I had a dream where you wore no pants yet still had on a jacket and tie. I think it was a tie, could have been snakes around your neck….it was one of those weird dreams."

"I'm dreaming one of those dreams and I'm wide awake."

"That must suck, Asami…..but it is…." He started laughing again, tears of sadness replaced by tears of joy, which looked the same for some reason. "….seriously funny."

"Oh nice, now you're laughing at me. I'm seeing little sparks coming out of your head and the whole room is spinning and I have the sudden urge to put butter on my cock like a piece of toast and you're laughing."

"Butter….really? I'm sorry, Asami….I know you're buzzed but it's really funny….from where I'm standing that is." The pants in his hand tumbled to the floor when Asami launched at him and lowered Akihito somewhat gently onto the white fluffy rug in front of the fireplace. "Hey! Don't yank me!"

"Now, you're not standing anymore….is it still funny?

Akihito stopped laughing, the wind almost knocked out of him. Akihito saw Asami's golden eyes come alive with swirls of light, a kaleidoscope of drugs, alcohol, power trips and uncontrolled lust.

"Yeah….it kind of is."

"Are you Akihito? Are you the one sent to break the curse? Or a demon sent to torment me? Because you've got little horns growing out of your head." Asami patted Akihito's head like a dog.

"Horns….and I'm Akihito, who else would I be?" He attempted to push Asami off of him, of course, it didn't work. "What's this about a curse?"

"The curse." Asami rolled to the side and propped himself up on his elbows. "I'll tell you if you want to hear it. I'd like to light the fireplace so we have the ambiance for telling scary stories, but the temperature in here is already too hot."

"Never mind ,it doesn't work, so, tell me the curse, I'm all ears."

"Oh, don't say that….now I see cat's ears on your head, my little_ kitten..._meow meow."

Akihito cringed. "Asami…..the story? Focus!"

"Fine. You've realized long ago what I do, Akihito." Asami lowered his voice to almost a whisper, as if someone were listening in (someone probably was).

"Yes, some of it. Not the details."

"Because of what I do, people like me do, we are cursed. Our happiness is elusive, always just out of our reach. Someone always wants to take what we have…our money, power, control….the people we love."

Akihito shuddered as the swirls of light and dark as Asami's eyes focused and unfocused. "You believe in the curse?"

"We're kind of a superstitious bunch, so yeah, I do."

Akihito tweaked his lip with his fingers. "I've never heard you talk like this. You sure you weren't drugged with truth serum?"

"Whatever it was is wearing off." Asami shrugged. "What I'm asking is, are you here to break the curse?"

"I don't see how I could." Akihito looked at Asami seriously, studying that handsome face, the face that almost hurt to look at. He wasn't smirking, he wasn't angry.

He looked sad.

"You never eat your Osechi on New Year's Day do you?" The cold cloth found his face and neck, the dots of sweat disappearing leaving only a dewy glow on the man's face.

That momentary look of sadness went away. "Not that I can recall right now."

"You call yourself Japanese? Seriously, no one has a good year unless they start it with Osechi, I even made some while in Brazil, well, it was close to Osechi anyway."

"What does food have to do with curses?"

"Everything! Start the New Year with a full belly, and you'll have prosperity, good fortune and good health."

"Well…..I guess I can't argue with that." The back of his fingers traced down Akihito's side. The glint of lust flickered in his eyes as Asami blinked, trying to remove the last traces of the effect of the drug. The smirk on Asami's face returned as Akihito's eyes closed slowly, then opened as Asami's fingers traced underneath his shirt.

Akihito took a shallow breath as Asami closed in on his right nipple. "So…." Akihito began awkwardly, his face hot with the tell-tale and familiar feeling of naivety, "…..I don't want to hurt you."

Of course Asami chuckled. "I won't break." He hopped to his feet, found a bottle of olive oil in the kitchen, and was back before Akihito could run for his life. Not that he didn't want to do this, it just made him nervous.

As if he heard him, Asami said, "Don't be nervous." The jacket and shirt came off, and Asami stood there, completely naked, his cock half-hard and getting harder as Akihito stared at it like it was a side show freak. He never could understand how that fit inside him.

Asami pulled Akihito's shirt off, seemingly impatient to get things started. Akihito felt like he should be doing something….kissing? Instead, he was still on his knees, eye level with Asami's cock. He spit in his hand and reached for it, but Asami swatted him away.

"No cock worship." Asami smirked and waved a finger at him.

Akihito frowned. "It doesn't look burned." He pulled his pants off, tugging at the bottom, the hem caught in his prosthetic for a moment before the pants joined the pile of forgotten clothing.

"Maybe not, but I'm not going to find out. It does sting a little, maybe because I'm horny." Asami made the cutest pained face, a slight pursed lip and crunching of his eyebrow. Akihito brushed Asami's hair with the back of his hand and the face softened. Asami's eyes roamed over Akihito's naked body, and where he looked, his hands followed. Their lips came together yet their bodies curved away from each other, with Akihito fighting the urge to grind against Asami and cause him pain.

With only that slight brush of Asami's hand, Akihito felt the moan at the back of his throat and without thinking, pulled Asami to him and they sank together to the floor. The fluffy white rug tickled in spots mimicking Asami's light touches, which barely brushed his naked chest.

"Are you going to do something about my horniness?" Asami teased.

Lips entwined, the kisses grew more frantic, winded breathing drowning out the distant noise of the city. Akihito felt bolder, pushing against Asami's mouth, slowly lowering his head to the floor and hovering over him. He wanted to say something manly, or poignant or sexy but all he could do was stare into Asami's eyes, so alive with desire. Did his eyes look the same?

Eyes fluttered closed as their lips came together again, not the gentle coming together of flesh, but more heated, a kindling of bottled emotions, unspoken words and thoughts of one another.

Asami's lips parted, whispering a word so softly that he barely heard it over Akihito's own ragged breaths. "Akihito." Asami didn't hide the desire behind the name, felt relaxed enough for his own emotions to leak through that unbreakable mask.

And then the mask closed and Asami hid his emotions behind a challenging smirk.

"Don't say anything." Akihito's eyes traced the sensual hard body below him, afraid of what Asami might say if that mask ever broke into pieces.

Almost overwhelmed by the familiar scent of Asami's cigarettes, Akihito reacquainted himself with Asami's body. Touch followed kiss followed touch, as Asami's eyes pursued each movement with a shallow sigh and a gentle caressing of Akihito's hair.

Akihito avoided Asami's self-inflicted injury, skirting it with snake like movement of his fingers, yet Asami still inhaled through his teeth, writhing with the need for it to be brought to life in Akihito's hand or sucked harshly into Akihito's mouth.

His knees already rubbing on the rug, he ignored the burning as Asami's hips relaxed under his touch, legs parted slightly as Asami's thighs twitched in anticipation, and when Akihito finally brushed over his ass and gripped it, before letting go, he thought he heard a gasp.

The olive oil spilled open, a victim of his nervous fingers, onto that white rug, staining it a light yellow. The oil coating his fingers he teased Asami's ass, pausing as Asami's long deep breath became short. Asami opened his mouth only to be silenced by a long deep kiss. With the wiggling of his finger, Akihito's digit pushed in, up to the knuckle, feeling Asami tighten under him.

It felt so hot around his finger, clenching and unclenching. "Hurt? I'm sorry, I'll stop." Akihito started to remove his finger but Asami hips rocked back and forth, his finger reappearing and disappearing with every movement. Without comment another finger joined the first, Asami's breath stopped and restarted, as quiet as the wind whispering through the trees.

Asami clutched as his neck, pulling him closer, Akihito's arm snaking to embrace the man that right at this moment, he loved more than life itself. Ask him tomorrow, and you might get a different answer, but right then, the ache in his chest lingered only with the wish to bring his lover pleasure.

His own need forgotten, he wondered if he looked so erotic, so incredibly sexy when Asami performed the same actions on him. Yet Asami didn't blush or cover his head with his hands, as if embarrassed. He only felt and enjoyed the rush with half-lidded eyes as Akihito's fingers pulsated, teasing the nerves which exploded with every brush of his touch.

Akihito's own need begged for attention, his fevered pace a reminder he hadn't seen Asami in a week. His cock replaced the fingers he removed suddenly. Asami rose up on his elbows, and his eyes sparkling he pulled his legs further apart.

"I'm sorry in advance if I screw this up." Akihito's hips rocked, yet he hadn't pushed in, waiting for a moment when Asami relaxed further. "Hey did I tell you I'm leaving for the United States in a couple of weeks?"

"What?" When Asami said '_what_,' Akihito snapped his hips and stopped, the moist heat immediately overwhelming him. Oh…so _this _is what it felt like. Tight, and almost too much, like heaven.

"Geez, Akihito, warn a guy." Asami head snapped back, his taught neck exposed, as the tension in his body coiled and relaxed with a very gentle first thrust.  
Akihito took advantage of that neck, nipping at Asami's collar bone, biting the earlobe that peeked out from under Asami's hair.  
Sweat already dripped down and he wiped at it, getting a whiff of Asami's unique beautiful musk on his hands. He pushed forward then waited as Asami relaxed further. "Been a long time?" Akihito didn't want to ask, but Asami felt so tight he wondered if the man had ever bottomed, not that he had anything to compare it to.

"A long time." He sighed, rocking his hips side to side and pulled at Akihito's hips, to guide him further. "I never bottomed often."

"Yeah, I wonder why…Super Semi-sama."

A smirk graced those kissed-swollen lips, teasing him to come in and take another nip. "So, how is it on your end?"

"Better than all right."

"It's not going to become a habit is it…..aah..." An audible moan rumbled, Akihito speeding up and slowing down, aiming for the spot and searching Asami's face for confirmation as it contorted with building desire. He fixated on Asami's cock, watching it flip pre-cum and swell with each rock of Akihito's hips. The legs pulled back in invitation, hands, his and Asami's, clutched at the rug, now sweaty, stained and probably headed to the trash.  
"I could see myself getting addicted to it." Akihito teased.  
"Don't get your hopes..." A grunt swallowed whatever Asami was going to say.  
"Asami…..Asami…" He breathed a mere whisper passing by his lips, now pinched white with each nibble of his lip as the compulsion to thrust overwhelmed his desire to take his time and please the man below him. Asami's eyes clenched shut, hips pushed back meeting Akihto's onslaught, slowly, the lips parted and one gasp escaped before Asami closed the mouth again and was silent.

"I want to hear you." His lips felt numb, wet from kissing and licking his lips.

"Then you have to do better than that." Asami challenged.

"I want to go slow, I want you to feel me." He thrusted hard, flesh meeting flesh, enjoying the tiny little grunt Asami gave and that tiny little line in the crease of his forehead.

Asami grinded his hips, pulling him towards him again to capture Akihito's bottom lip with his teeth, and with that angle, Akihito felt the first waver in that lust filled gaze. "Found it."

"Oh…that you did." Asami laid back, arms over his head, stretched, each sinewy muscle rippling with each building thrust. One hand found the couch's sturdy leg, and his fist gripped it, his knuckles white with tension.

"You're beautiful, Asami." Akihito whispered in the man's ear.

"MNnhhh….don't push it."

With the word _push_ Akihito's pace faltered, his eyelids fluttered and closed, unable to watch Asami's erotic face. Hair, previously neat, fell into his eyes, blinding him further. His ears, however, heard everything – Asami's choked moan, the slapping of balls on ass, his own ragged breathing. He swallowed, angled and drove in frantically, more for Asami's need than his own, however right now the two of them seemed one and the same. The connection, far more than the act of sex, drove him as wave of euphoria rolled off his back and into his groin.

"Asami….Asami…." He faltered again, hips angling, rolling like an ocean's waves, a sea of sweat and scent. Somewhere, upstairs or in the next room, Asami's cell rang, the ringtone marking the time of his thrusts, driving him harder, deeper. The phone went ignored as it fell silent.

Asami grabbed him, pulling him into an odd embrace, driving his tongue into Akihito's mouth before his tongue found Akihito's ear. It distracted him for a moment, the tongue in his ear until Asami whispered, "I'm close. Harder."

A shift and Akihito braced, aiming for the spot. Asami's slight grunts rose in pitch but not in volume, his breath coming out in short rapid gasps, as his cock swelled with the need to come, as he couldn't hold back any longer, Asami's abs quivered and his legs wrapped around Akihito's waist, tightening around him and impaling himself onto Akihito's cock.

That was it, he couldn't hold back. "Asami!" He yelled, his groin flipped and the world left him for just an instant and he rode it, that wave of painless bliss, that dark ecstasy, when primal need makes savages of men.

He rode it out, eyes flipping open. Asami gasped, his hands rubbing himself, writhing as the last bits of Asami's cum dribbled onto his chest.

It was silent for a moment, Akihito listening to the thudding of his heart, so like the beat of a drummer. Someone spoke, and it wasn't him, he was still trying to catch his breath. "Well…..." Asami said.

"I did my best." Akihito replied. That look of lust in Asami's eyes softened, a smirk replaced that passionate smile, a hand whipped through his hair, and the man could, after getting dressed, head out to a meeting. Well, maybe after wiping the come off.

"Will that do?" Asami asked, giving him the Asami smirk.

"For now, I might be ready for another round in an hour or so, after I chew on some toothpicks and drink my Starbuck's and stand around awhile, staring at the Tokyo skyline." Akihito pulled out reluctantly, collapsing next to Asami, who put an arm around him protectively and pulled him close.

"I'm not staring, I'm admiring it." The rag from earlier made an appearance and Asami wiped the ribbons of white coating his chest and did the same with Akihito's now spent cock. In that gesture, he felt his need start to build again.

"Thinking about how much you own?" Akihito watched Asami clean, the towel going around and around his cock in soft easy strokes, a hand underneath his chin, his eyes lighting up with a delicious idea, as in another round sooner rather than later.

"I own all of it, Akihito, I own all of it."


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter XI (11)

Note: Run! Run! I've lost my mind!

"There's chatter." Kirishima poured Asami's hot green tea (Starbuck's was closed), his voice so low Asami thought he hadn't heard right. But he knew that he heard right, he had his hearing tested recently. Kirishima and Akihito ganged up on him and made him get tested after he kept turning up the television louder and louder. Turns out, he had wax build up in his ears. Even the doctor joked he could make candles out of the wax and sell them to the monks.

So, in response to multiple threats, some kind of analogy of shoes and knives invaded the happy home of Asami and Akihito. One dropping, the other cutting, and the tension growing ever thicker with each passing day. Too bad it wasn't sexual tension although there was a lot of that as well. That he could deal with. His mother on the other hand…

"And what does this chatter have to say."

"Freezing assets, mostly, the government likes cold money." Kirishima flipped through some files, found the one he wanted and placed it squarely on Asami's cowhide blotter. It read _Confidential_ in big red letters. Every file carried the label _Confidential. _It made is easier for spies to know which files to take.

_All of them._

"Legal chatter then, nothing else?" He stared at the file. Something about it….not it's manila color, not it's big red _Confidential_ stamp emblazoned across the front, but the sheer size of it. It bulged in the center, the binding ripped and repaired like he couldn't afford a new file (he's not cheap, he's frugal). The file's label, well, it might as well have read _Boring Shit _V_olume 1 _because that's what it was, _boring shit, _to borrow Akihito's phrase whenever he watched the stock market ticker or the business report.

Akihito wanted to know what he did for a living? He was doing it….reading reports, writing reports, reviewing reports. Then, he'd leave for a meeting, a business deal, maybe some dinner and then continue with reports…ad nauseam.

Nothing beat some dry reading during a warm spring rain. And this reading was as dry as a witch's teat.

"Silent as a grave from your mother's camp, which worries me." Kirishima's worried expression continued, his brow furrowing between those black frames. His right hand man, the one he thought he knew everything about, limped away, clutching his back, not realizing Asami watched him closely.

"Well, that's some kind of happy news, so don't look so…..pained." Asami smirked, he knew that walk. He'd walked it himself recently, after Akihito topped on White Day….twice, before Akihito passed out (well, Akihito passed out, he fell asleep) on that white fluffy rug (now trash). They never even made it to the bedroom. White Day became _Akihito Gets to Top _day, although the boy had argued that once a year wasn't enough. Yeah, good luck with that.

It was _exactly_ ten days later (he counted) since White Day, and his doctor cleared his crotch for take-off. Actually, Asami was never sure he'd burned his crotch, or if Sensei Shimuzu just played a practical joke on him…probably the latter.

A heavy breath from his second and Asami caught the worry in Kirishima's eyes. "The assets they want to freeze….are Akihito's."

He chuckled. "Let's see them try….his mother doesn't like bullies, so I'll defer to her. I'll inform her of the situation….unless there is something else?" He went to dial Akihito's mother's number but noticed Kirishima hadn't left, in fact, the man appeared lost, in another world. Dreamy eyed.

_Please tell me I'm hallucinating still and Kirishima is not standing there dreamy eyed._

He blinked a couple of times. Nope, Kirishima was still standing there with half-lidded eyes and a rosy tint on his cheek.

"Kirishima?" His secretary jumped just slightly and pushed his perfect glasses up his pointed nose. "What's her name?" He knew the '_her'_ wasn't a '_her' _but a '_him'_ unless the girl he fucked donned a strap-on and rode him like a uke. Even Asami shuddered at that scenario.

"Uh….I'm sorry Asami-sama?"

"You're distracted. You actually have some color in those pale cheeks of yours. Out with it, what's her name? Did you background check her?"

"Uhhh…."

"I can't tell you how many relationships start at the company party. Oh, and last year? There were three births nine months after White Day. One even named their son Ryuuichi. I was touched."

"Fascinating." Kirishima said automatically. He sounded so Spock-like, Asami wanted to tell Scotty to beam him up. Kirishima's color turned a little pinker, especially when someone's heavy three-beat knock sounded at his office door. That knock came from only one person, Suoh. Only Suoh had a secret knock. Call it a perk of employment.

"Enter." He sat back and watched the proceedings. Kirishima barely met Suoh's eyes and Suoh…poor Suoh, Asami could smell his seme pheromones perfuming the room. "I'm only asking as a friend, not as an employer, well mostly your employer…..make sure you background check her."

Suoh stood there, stock still, but his eyes rocked back and forth, from Kirishima and back to him, then back to Kirishima like they shared some unwritten joke, some private secret. "I'm sorry to bother you, Asami-sama but Takaba-san brought you bento for lunch."

"Oh….did he, that's so cute. He gets cuter every day." He took the bento wrapped up neatly in Pokemon themed cloth. It was still warm. "He's so afraid I'll be poisoned he's making me fat with his home cooking. Just the other day, he wore this apron with these little shorts underneath and….."

"If that will be all." Suoh interrupted as he bowed and went to leave, his fervent eyes catching Kirishima's partially hidden eyes one last time.

Oh, this was decidedly a highlight of his day. "Wait a moment, Suoh. I was wondering if you have any information about the girl Kirishima seems to have a crush on." He tried to keep the teasing tone out of his voice, the teasing tone that he used on Akihito, but he found it almost impossible. So impossible, he pretended to clear his throat. His smirk disappeared behind the rim of his tea cup.

"Asami-sama?" Kirishima's color, usually pale and getting paler with even the mention of the word _'sex,' _turned bright red instead. "I'll leave you to eat, Dracaena's stocks need checking for the opening."

"Uh..huh. I see. Wait a moment, you never answered my question. You must know, Suoh, you're always at his side. You know everything about him, so spill." Asami opened the bento, the clicking of the metal openings the only sound in the silent room as his two enamored employees eyed each other.

When no one said anything, Asami pushed harder. "Is she an employee?" The chopsticks out, he hid behind them, as his smirk broadened into a grin.

Again, silence from the two idiots before him, one adjusting his glasses, the other feeling for his piece underneath his jacket like a lucky charm. "You know I said to get laid on White Day, I didn't necessarily mean with each other."

Kirishima inhaled audibly and Suoh coughed but still said nothing.

"Finally confessed, huh, Suoh?" Asami's face hurt now. That was the number one reason he didn't become a model. He hated smiling, and now he knew why, his face hurt. "You know he's liked you since the first day you spared with him, Kirishima."

"Uhhh…." The two bodyguards said in unison, perfectly tuned, perfectly stunned and currently with nothing coherent to say.

"That was what….five years ago? Seven?"

"It was six." Suoh finally got the verbal part of his brain functioning. "Six years."

"And here I thought you didn't have a libido at all, Kirishima." Asami enjoyed the tortured look on Kirishima's face. He couldn't meet Asami's eyes, couldn't meet Suoh's eyes. His shiny black shoes on the shiny black surface of the floor of Asami's office held his attention.

"Our relationship won't affect our work, Asami-sama." Kirishima mumbled like a scolded child.

"See that it doesn't. However, if it does….I don't want to hear about it." Asami the nice boss made an appearance, his eyes twinkling with merriment. No, that's pushing it. Let's just say he glared a little less. "So, should I get my tux out of moth balls?"

Suoh's feet, which had melted into the floor, finally moved towards Kirishima as he adjusted the piece hidden in his armpit again. "Well…you'll be the first to know, sir." He gave his lover (Asami almost choked on the word) a little wink and Kirishima turned bright red. Perhaps Kirishima popped a blood vessel in his face, that explained his other worldly glow.

_Ugh…Kirishima was glowing._

Asami suddenly wished he was still hallucinating.

**P-B-B**

Akira, the man with only one name because he was awesome like that, tailed the young man with dark black hair (darker than black - as if no light escaped from his head) from a safe distance as he walked down a small street crammed with people and overflowing with shops. It was Saturday, a typical shopping day for hard-working people, and Akira, like the rest of humanity, worked so he seemed to blend right in.

But if one looked closely, he didn't blend in, couldn't blend in, nor wouldn't blend in, at least not in this universe.

Don't tell anyone what he did for a living, they'd never believe it. Heck, some days even he imagined he'd descended into hell and now butchered filets made of the flesh of sinners fit for consumption by demons and devils. The devil's own master, a man named Asami would see that flesh seasoned and roasted for his dining pleasure if anyone crossed him. And this man did.

Something so simple. One disgruntled former employee could have destroyed an empire. Akira understood conspiracies, blood baths and revenge killings. But this?

No doubt about it, David almost slew Goliath had fate not smiled on Asami on White Day.

No one noticed Akira or the two other men, let's call them X and Y for security purposes, flanking and then retreating as their Target walked with drive, on a mission, marching with the just and unjust alike in their quest for one moment of happiness.

The mission a simple one for the man with inky hair: deliver one box containing one strawberry birthday cake, emblazoned with the words _Happy Birthday Moko-chan_ written in dark red frosting.

Akira kept an eye on the man, fisting his own well-worn black briefcase. It contained a canister of chloroform and sawdust, in case the Target tossed his cookies or cake or sushi, or whatever he'd eaten recently. He'd seen it happen and took precautions, as if chloroforming someone was typical of his duties. Actually, it was typical. As typical as filing, making a phone call or attending a meeting for the people who made their living in more ordinary ways.

The man with the jet black hair and fervent step (AKA the Target) turned a corner and Akira hoofed it across the street quickly, narrowly avoiding the wrinkled old woman with the black pram-like stroller as she charged at him like she owned the street. He dodged her, his feet hardly moving except for one little step to the left, and then back, his movements as graceful as a ballet dancer's sure steps. A quick glance in the stroller confirmed his suspicions. It contained no baby, only newspapers, their black print staining the white cotton blankets underneath.

X removed himself from the perch of a car's bumper, joining the throng of shoppers, his cigarette bobbing in his mouth as he advanced towards the Target. He glanced at his cell phone, and Akira knew X watched the live feed from the camera mounted from the top of the fire house Z, the tech guy, hacked into earlier. He watched the same feed as the Target headed towards Yakitori Alley, although the alley smelled like fish and not yakitori. Their Target was taking the short-cut home. Akira beamed, a creepy smile that made the young girl standing next to him move away grasping the hand of her nanny.

Target pulled out his cell phone and dialed quickly, his other hand jostling the cake which teetered in his hands before it leveled out.

Somewhere, a few blocks from here, Z played with a jumble of wires and gears that would make R2D2 envious. Z's voice whispered into Akira's ear piece, sounding so tinny and rushed as if someone might trace his call. Actually someone might.

"He's calling home saying he'll be a few minutes late." The voice faded and disconnected without further comment. The Target smiled while he talked, his delicate hands winding through his dark hair. The call Target made didn't last long as he turned quickly down the alley that reeked of fish and seem to disappear.

Except another man in the black suit caught up, it was Y. Y and X continued down the alley, talking quietly, as if old friends. At the end of the alley was the perfect spot to corner their Target. A blind alley. Don't ask him how alleys can see in the first place, and how you would blind one in the second place, but Akira new this neighborhood well enough that blind alleys saw more than their share of blood.

Akira pounced like a cat, startling the man with the blacker than black hair. This man wouldn't complete his mission, this man wouldn't see tomorrow.

"What do you want?" Their Target asked. The man's name wasn't important. Actually, Akira found his job easier to forgo names. Names meant humanity. Names meant someone loved him. Names meant home and family and parents.

X and Y caught up, seemingly dazed that Akira had vaulted the building, ran across the roof and ended up in front of them. Akira's agility could rival that of Spiderman's and he did it without spandex and fake webbing.

"Ecstasy." Akira, a simple man, said volumes with that word, at least from the man's surprised and terrified expression. What he meant with that one word was '_you poisoned the boss, now you'll pay.'_

The man paled, dropped the cake with a _plop_ and bolted down the alley in the direction he came. Too bad a black car blocked his escape. X grabbed the Target's upturned collar, jolting him backward and onto his butt pinning him with a knee to his chest. The man screamed, or at least tried to, but only soft sobs poured from his mouth.

Akira took the opportunity, as cheap and easy as it was and with chloroform in hand, the black-haired man crumpled at his feet. A few moments later, X and Y disappeared, with their Target safely stowed in the trunk of the car. Out of sight and for sure out of mind. Only the insane go after Asami Ryuuichi.

Akira opened the cake box, and with two fingers, dug in and sucked the red and white filling into his mouth, his eyes closing in pleasure.

_Happy Birthday Moko-chan, your cake was delicious._


End file.
